Hello!
This post is a copy from another VR headset subreddit. I decided to get some more opinions on this, as it seems that the other subreddit decided to delete my post for low effort and many of their recommendations (not all though!) seemed to be swayed towards Quest 3 without giving a solid enough reason to do so.
Firstly, the below post starts with a satire bit to give you a funny introduction into my point of view. It's not meant to be serious, but it represents the problems I am facing with picking a new headset quite well.
If you find the satire boring I included both a tag for the most relevant part AND a TLDR.
// INTRO - SKIP TO THE NEXT SECTION (LOOKS JUST LIKE THIS TAG) IF UNFUNNY //
Wherever I look - the best value lies in "standalone" headsets. The idea is simple of course - Karen.
Wait, what?
The last time Karen heard the word "processor" was in 2010 and all her friends call their laptops "PCs". If she learns that you have a stationary PC she'll think you're 50 years old and you've never heard of smartphones.
Her iPhone's case got scratched yesterday so the Genius bar offered a screen replacement for the cost of 3 new iPhones, so why would she spend too much money on a headset? It's all goggles anyway.
After skipping a few confusing reviews that talk about very confusing stuff like the "GPU", "DisplayPort" and "USB-C" she checks all the straightforward and simple ads by Meta and learns that the newset, most futuristic generation of headsets is the "standalone" type. Turns out the more expensive headset is on the market the worse it is! You pay MORE money and you end up with MORE cables?! And it's HEAVIER?! Obviously the Quest 2 is the best option!
Now, after Karen makes her purchase and is happy with the product and all of the recordings of her room are safe on Meta servers for ad recommendations she posts a positive review. A low price, no cables, "standalone"! It's a steal!
Here's the moment where I enter the picture. A 40BMI obese dude who writes his own software to fix things that don't work as they should. This dude has a powerhouse of a PC - RTX 4090, Ryzen 9 7950X, a 47-inch 4K OLED monitor, a dedicated external studio audio interface, studio headphones and a studio, condenser microphone.
I am the messiah of the Cheeto dust finger-lickers. Last time I gamed on a smartphone was NaN years ago. My 100WPM typing speed on a PC keyboard is just slightly faster than my 25WPM speed on mobile with 10 typos in one sentence. One upside is that I am proficient at taking screenshots on my smartphone, but only if it's a screenshot of the lock screen and only when I am picking up my device.
// RELEVANT PART - SKIP TO THIS IF BORED //
I thought to myself - well, if "standalone" versions exist for the casual market, I am sure there are slightly more expensive "PC Goggles" that are essentially head monitors (sounds like a gloryhole security guard) that rely entirely on the power of the GPU.
And yeah... there are... kinda.
HTC Vive Pro 2 - seems like a great headset for the power user! Until I've heard that it actually has trash lenses and a terrible microphone.
Well, okay then, next one!
The Pico 4 - one of the "standalone" options can be connected to the PC via USB-C and it has great lenses! Oh wait... it's only 90Hz... and it can't keep up with the 4090 anyway in terms of processing... and whenever you move your controllers behind your back they don't exist anymore.
No worries! The Valve Index! Oh wait... the resolution is nowhere near acceptable for today's standards in comparison to other headsets...
Of course! The Pimax! Oh wait... I could buy a respectable car for that price?
I think you see my point. Whenever I think I found a great headset it turns out it always has at least one fatal flaw. I completely understand that if you want to have EVERY aspect of your headset be premium then you have to pay a lot, but all those super-expensive headsets are just not worth it, seeing how much more expensive they are.
I am in a place where I have ABSOLUTELY 0 IDEA what to pick.
Could you guys please recommend me something?
// TLDR: I am a poweruser who wants "PC VR goggles", not a glorified phone with eye monitors, pls help. //

I have been unable to get anywhere in my effort to sign up to be a Dasher. I have a pretty old pay as you go phone I bought at Walmart. It's the same as a phone I paid full price before that, and lost : iPhone SE. (Safari) At the point where the app asks for permission to access the camera, it shows a graphic of a license that very briefly shows my license that I'm trying to focus on and align with the illustrated license. it goes away so fast, plus I don't know how to "snap" the picture when I was close to aligning them. I'm missing something here and when I search for the answer in support or the community there is no specific details of how to take the picture or how to upload a photo of my license into the app. Most of the answers I get are about verifying customer ID's

Reddit dudes/girls commenting on matter of millions of lives being shut down right before our eyes. I can't comprehend the nerve on(unfortunately, the majority) these people here who are obviously pro-Israel and can't stop fanboying for Israel regardless of how big the death toll is.
Those same people, probably enjoying a Starbucks Mango-Peanutbutter-Orange peels-Latte Machiatto right now, typing comments on a iPhone 27 Ultra Mega Giga Max(the tax money is funding the carpet bombing and massive murder in Palestine) and living in a land far away from any conflict, with their biggest trouble in life being hitting their pinky toe on a door or smthn...
ARE COMMENTING ABOUT WHAT'S RIGHT TO DO WITH PEOPLE WHO DON'T HAVE ANYTHING TO EAT, NO SHELTER, NO NOTHING!
Yet I see so many people here being pro-Israel, like they are trying to beat terrorism with terrorism! And that is supposed to be the 'right' stance? How big of a scumbag must somebody be to promote something like that? And then there's crying along the lines of "ThEy dOnT uNdErStAnD, wE eXpErIeNcEd a (cant say the word, but you probably know what I mean). Oh yeah, you are really showing what you experienced, about to make it even bigger than the austrian artist!
Let's make a analogy: imagine a country like USA, Germany, England etc. getting grinded to dust because of a minority, regardless of what that minority is doing, WHAT IS WITH THE REST OF THE POPULATION!? Is a palestinians life so worthless that it's not even a factor to consider in the attack? I feel like even if the Hamas magically disappeared from the face of earth, the slaughter would continue until Palestine is no more.
I hope for those same plebs irrationally and shamelessly disregarding the people dying out there, as if they are just a meatshield, to suffer at least a fraction of the pain these people are going through. I don't expect any reason, people are acknowledging the massive death toll/genocide/terrorism/ethnic cleansing, yet still encouraging further progressiom of the same. This was written by a bosnian dude, who's not pro-Israel or pro-Palestinian, but rather a human, no hate towards Israel people, but the army doing such crimes with allowance from the whole world.

Is there a CCW fanny pack out there that has more than just a main zip compartment and tiny outer zip, doesn't look super dude-ish, and works well? Below is my long list of considerations as well as top three picks. I've spent hours scouring the internet and am leaning toward the 9.45. Q.A.P.S. Lite, but want to make sure I'm not missing anything. Not looking for a crossbody sling and would like for it to be just big enough to hold my things (VP9 SK, iphone 11, keys, wallet, POM pepper spray). Would like to use with a Crossbreed modular or A.R.M.S. holster.
I'm a 5'6" 135ish lb stay at home mom to a 2 and 4 year old. This pack would mostly be for summertime when it's harder to cover up. I also hope to be pregnant again soon, so this is how I intend to carry if and when that happens.
​

• My top picks
  • 9.45 Industries Q.A.P.S. Lite $132.99
    • Doesn't look super tactical and comes with a kydex holster so I know for sure my gun would fit
  • Vertx Everyday Fanny Pack $49.99
    • I really like how this looks, but there is some feedback about the clip not being great and coming undone by accident. That's a scary thought when carrying a gun, especially with kids around.
  • Paladin Outback MK3 $130
    • Pricy, but intriguing with the fun poppies of war floral pattern. Can't find any reviews on it but 100% American made and seems legit.
• Insufficient space (main CCW compartment plus small front zip compartment)
  • Tight Chutes Voyager CCW Pack $79 (w/o M.A.R.S. holster)
  • Elite Survival Systems Hip Gunner $62.95
  • Spiritus Mk3 $64.95
• A bit too bulky
  • Hill People Gear $130
  • Eberlestock Bando $49
  • Sheepdog Response Low Viz $64.99
• Miscellaneous no-gos
  • 5.11 Tactical Select Carry Pistol Pouch $42
    • Pretty blatantly tactical
  • Helikon Tex Bandicoot $37.99
    • Belt is too long (38" min length), not my favorite design
  • UUB Phoenix $129
    • Bag design is strange... my husband laughed at me when I said I was considering this and said it looks like the ghoul from the fallout show would carry it. Also awkward to use if wearing shorts since it would wrap around bare leg?
  • Jessie James Waimea $49.99
    • Lots of fun color options and plenty of space. However, zipper quality seems to suck per reviews (yikes).
  • Gun Goddess Kailey ? sold out
    • Leather design is cool but CCW compartment is furthest from the body, which doesn't make sense since it would sag outward. Also, hook and loop panel is on the far side, making the draw kind of weird. Also would rule out a kydex holster with hook and loop since it would have to attach backwards.

EducationalOne5657 • 1m ago Okay so question.. so if you lost your AirTag for awhile then someone finds it, does it notify them? I'm new to all this, I'm being stalked.. Can you then do something to disable it? Because this dude is stalking me with an AirTag, I found it cause I switched from android to iPhone and it kept telling me about an unknown tracking device. I’m still learning this phone, so long story short I finally found the AirTag after taking my trunk out but right when I found it, he somehow knew because then boom he was able to stop the tracking or what? Because now it no longer shows me that the AirTag is near me or that I’m being tracked even tho it’s in my possession in a different city, was he able to stop the tracking when I found it? Did it notify him?

They say if you're not attractive, you need to be rich. But how? How does that exactly work? Like I get the idea, you gotta show the women that you've got resources and are able to provide for a family.
Is it about bragging with expensive stuff? No sane woman would go like "wow this balding guy with dwarfism is holding an iphone 15 while my crush only has the iphone 13, I'm gonna change my mind" no wtf.
Or are you supposed to invite her to fancy restaurants? Something she can't afford on her own? I bet this would just make me look like a tryhard.
Maybe it's just about not being poor, but then again I have literally been left for a jobless dude.
In my friend group I'm a bit older than everyone else (late 20s vs early/mid 20s). So I'm the only one who has a quite high income instead of being a college student. So, compared to 95% of my social bubble, I'd be straight up RICH. This has done completely jack shit. If anything, I feel like I had more success when I was a poor student myself.
Please tell me the secret I don't understand.

Mildly amusing story that just happened to me at work a moment ago.
For context, I work at a small print shop in a big city that offers amongst other related services, faxes.
In walks a boomer gentleman in a security guard uniform (like your typical private security company). I thought this would be a fairly ordinary interaction but sadly, that was naïve thinking.
Guy comes in needing a fax and proceeds to hand me a hand-written letter on a quarter-sheet of yellow memo pad paper (weird but whatever; I can just make a quick photo copy).
I hand him a sheet of paper and ask him to write down the fax# it's going to, he puts down an email address. I clarify this for him and gives me a puzzled look, then goes back into his iPhone to look for this number (which takes him like 10 minutes).
While he's going through all that, he disgruntledly mentions that he tried to get this done at the grocery store down the street, but they were out of ink. He kept loudly complaining "How does that even happen? It's ridiculous?" to me in an apparent attempt to get me on this side (hmm I dunno, maybe faxes are probably amongst the last priority for a fucking SUPERMARKET).
Dude, I'm not your therapist, your bartender, or your priest. SHUT UP.
Right at the end of our interaction, I give the usual "Have a good day" to which he replied, "Every day is a good day if you're waking up."
I suffer with depression, so I had no choice but to bite my tongue. As if my condition doesn't exist - aside from that, it's kinda hard to be happy about waking up when a majority of us don't make enough money and are barely squeezing by on bills (thanks largely in part due to this Boomer's generation vote that allowed Reagan to destroy the middle class).
Also, whoever this guy is providing security for, God-speed.

World Cruise lessons & observations

1. The vast majority of people on the full world cruise are rich. Not a little rich either — like founder of a successful company, invented a lucrative widget, or successful surgeon rich. But probably not billionaire rich.
2. A lot of passengers have never used a laundromat or even operated a washing machine & dryer
3. Rich people can be very nice & laid back or in ~10% of the cases total a…..es.
4. Anyone when stressed or tired can be a total a…..e. This applies to me.
5. If class disparity bothers you a lot, then long term cruising may not be for you. Front-of-the-house staff will be very deferential & try very hard to please. Think about what you ask for or about. Pro-tip: No matter how big an a….e you are, customer service isn’t going to get their supervisor or for that matter the President of RCL on the line. They are going to deal with your issue within their guidelines.
6. Be nice to your cabin steward. They have a lot of cabins to clean. We told ours to not clean on Sundays. Tipped him extra & didn’t ask for things like keeping ice in the ice bucket.
7. If you like to have drink, find a bar & bartenders/waiters you like. Usually go to that bar. Tip the staff. I usually gave a large tip once a week or so.
8. RCL isn’t a “Luxury” brand. They do a great job once you understand that.
9. In some ways, RCLs scheduling isn’t wonderful. Like docking in a remote industrial zone an hour from Saigon, and then only spend a few hours in Singapore. They should have skipped one or two of the ports in SE Asia & done an overnight in Singapore.
10. Since we only visited places for short periods of time, there is a lot of “If it’s Tuesday it must Belgium” kind of feeling. Many people skip going ashore in some ports or only go for a short time. I already liked sea days; after awhile I really liked sea days & multi-day stretches of sea days.
11. We got to go a lot of places we will never go to again. Also found a few places we would really like to go back to. Even though I thought I had a pretty good understanding of what the world outside of the U.S. was like, several places truly expanded my view of the world. Watching central India roll by from a train for 6 hours was genuinely a thought-provoking experience.
12. Have a mission. For instance we bought & mailed a post card from a local post office in as many places as possible to a family member who collects postcards. I also like trains & after deciding that metros & street cars count, we rode them in many places. The metros in the large Asian cities were fun & learning how to use them helped us get around the cities.
13. Learn how to download Google maps & use them for walking directions. This worked great for finding things like post offices, train stations & specific kinds of stores. You can also stand on the ship & match what you are seeing to the maps. Drop a pin in Google Maps & save its location for where your ship or shuttle bus pick up location is.
14. Maps.me is a freemium app that allows you to navigate without an internet connection. You have to download the maps for your location/country/state or city beforehand & some of them are large, so you need the time & speedy internet to do so.
15. If you are going to invest the time & money to go on a world cruise you need to be able to walk. Take six months (or a year) before the cruise, reduce your weight & do whatever you need to do make it so you can walk at least a couple of miles in high heat & humidity. Have your hip replacement done (or whatever)
16. On a “World Cruise” you aren’t on a cruise you are living on a ship. Learn to control your eating & drinking in the face of unlimited availability.
17. A cell phone with a large memory is very good for things like mapping apps. You can also delete apps you don’t need while overseas & reinstall them on your return home.
18. Put your phone on low power before leaving the ship & bring a power bank to recharge your phone. Even if you think you will only be ashore for a short time.
19. Tether your phone to you to prevent dropping it, leaving it or having it snatched. I also brought a backup phone & backed my phone up regularly to my laptop. Then backed my laptop up to an external drive which lived in our stateroom safe. Some truly important things also got encrypted & backed up to the Cloud.
20. Don’t have things in your hands while boarding tenders or walking on gangways. Put everything in a pocket or bag. If you drop something, it will just be gone & you may need to grab a rail to prevent a fall.
21. I’m a big, slightly obese white dude. The only place I blend in is Oklahoma City. I only take ashore what I absolutely have to. I stick local money in a pocket I can get to. A wad of U.S. 5s & 10s in a different pocket. My cruise line card, a small wallet in a place it’s easy to protect with one (but not both of my “government issued”) IDs… the other one is on the ship in the stateroom safe & a couple of credit cards.
22. Apple Pay & particularly the Apple Master card works in a surprising number of places. Which means all you need to have out is your phone. No digging for currency or credit cards.
23. If you are in port for 6-8 hours RCL excursions are appealing since (in theory) the ship won’t leave without you. They can be considerably more expensive for the same excursion offered by a different vendor.
24. Most of the excursions consist of going somewhere on a bus with a driver & a moderately English proficient guide. Some of these bus rides are over an hour long & some of the guides feel they must talk the entire time. So you get an in depth view of their country’s history, the guide’s view on politics and/or a history of colonialism or their abuela’s recipe for fish stew. I personally am fine with this. Others not so much.
25. The RCL “emergency” number says it’s for flight issues to & from the ship, but the people there can call the ship. I think the ship should have a direct emergency number.
26. Sometimes local guides change advertised itineraries & claim the skipped item is broken or it’s Tuesday & it doesn’t open up on Tuesday. But luckily my cousin Bob’s tapestry factory is just 20 minutes away & you can you use their bathroom & shop for tapestries which they will be happy to ship to your home country for you (pretty much a true story). So you need to learn to incite buswide revolts & insist on going to the item on the itinerary or back to the ship.
27. Island time happens & not only on islands. Embrace it.
28. You don’t have to get off the bus (usually)
29. Carry a small bag ashore so that you can put everything that is in your pockets in the bag. Then it can go through x-ray & you can go through the magnetometer. Wear plastics… belt & so forth.
30. I paid $100 (extra) each month for an international cell plan with Verizon. My phone worked in every country… just had to take it off airplane mode when I walked off the ship. Occasionally had to restart it for it to find the local network.
31. I bought an eSIM to use in Hong Kong. In mainland China, I used my backup phone with an eSIM & none of my regular data or apps on the phone & then wiped it when we left. eSIM’s worked great in both places…your mileage may vary.
32. I have a iPhone 15 pro & brought my iPhone 14 Pro as my back up phone.
33. All you can eat Starlink internet (on the Serenade) works great! I back up my photos to my laptop. Back up my laptop to an SSD drive which lives in our cabin safe & back up the photos to the Cloud. I delete photos off my phone once they are backed up.
34. RCL rotates all of the MDR wait staff at the beginning of each mini-cruise. This created a lot of unhappy passengers. A better plan would be to replace staff as they rotated off. RCL really wants you to usually eat dinner in the MDR.
35. I’m not going to dive into the details but our Amazon Fire stick with a VPN installed let us watch & record U.S. TV everywhere we went.
36. Have some understanding of where you are going. The locals (particularly the local police) aren’t going to change their policies, procedures or laws because you are a giant tourist a….e. There are places certain people just can’t go. For instance certain links to Pakistan mean you can’t get off the ship in India. Also, as a passenger found out, you can’t bring a satellite phone into India… they are very serious about this. You should pay attention to what the ship tells you about ports; it may not always be correct, but sometimes there is some vitally important stuff like you can be arrested for wearing camouflage clothes in certain countries.
37. We collect refrigerator magnets & nothing else. Some people buy “stuff” everywhere they go. On a long cruise, this can rapidly fill your cabin. Don’t put magnets on the exterior of your stateroom door that mean something to you; several people had magnets taken from their doors.

No Labels. No Platforms.
There, I said it. We got the talking part out of the way.
Now what does this look like when applied?
Am I crazy? Is this a knee-jerk reaction from some guy that’s just had enough of trying to fit into whatever cookie-cutter bullshit is hot this week?
Possibly, but let me explain-
I was born in 1980. Let’s get that out of the way off top so you know what tone to read this diatribe in.
I was barely a walking, talking human by the time of Regan’s inauguration. This ushered in the era of preppy excess on one side of the spectrum and the crack epidemic on the other. Rarely did these worlds coincide but they definitely coexisted. Suburban kids were watching the ‘Corys’ (Haim & Feldman) hoping to be the coolest kid on their block with the freshest vehicle, courtesy of mom & dad, that would surely get them the girl. The rest of us were bringing paper food stamps to school to hit the corner store during class break. And the cats we looked up too weren’t named Cory and they definitely weren’t daytime TV or even USA Up All Night material.
And the music? I can’t explain how fresh it was. You had to be there. I’m not gonna gas you up like some of these cats and attempt to explain it well enough that you ‘get it’. You have to understand that back then, a million things that are now firmly planted and rooted in our culture hadn’t happened yet-
No Biggie. No Tupac.
Nothing even remotely resembling an Eminem.
No Rock Steady Crew. No Kid Capri. No Def Comedy Jam.
No Outkast. No DJ Screw. No Three Six Mafia.
No Dipset. No Rhymesayers. No WuTang. No NWA.
None of it.
Imagine for a second that all you want to do is be Bruce Lee. Or save up enough money for a skateboard or some other semblance of identity or individuality. Then you walk by the park and see some young cat, not too much older than you, moving like a fucking robot. Better than a robot. And these big ass house speakers were drug to the park in the back of someone’s Suzuki so that the dude in the neighborhood with the dopest record and break beat collection could come down and spin and receive accolades for doing so. Over time, those accolades started to reach way past the block in which they originated. Enter The DJ-
House party flyers were probably the first tangible collectable item that was Hip Hop related. After that it was the MixTape. In the beginning, no two MixTapes were the same. You may get a dubbed tape from your boy or snatch a copy from the bootleg tables on the corner if they had their business together like that. But, for the most part, these were put together by the end user of the product itself: The Consumer. Some business savvy DJs of that time realized quick that the biggest money having mufukas they knew in real life were the drug dealers in the neighborhood. They would pay certain DJs to customize a MixTape for them that featured the bangers of that week/month/year but also the DJ shouting out the dealer that paid for the tape. Fixated on notoriety, it wouldn’t take long for money motivated individuals to position themselves beside the artists, producers and DJs of the time and, in the absence of a label, become boutique indie labels in their own right. These illicit proceeds would do more to perpetuate Hip Hop in its infancy than any corporate dollar. But these influxes would call enough attention to the culture that before we knew it, everyone from McDonald’s to the Chicago Bears would look to this new phenomenon to stay relevant.
Fast forward to the 90’s and Hip Hop was fully infused and rejuvenated with the hustler spirit. Artists like Too Short and E-40 proved that real money could be made in Hip Hop with the farm-to-table approach. It made an artist say, ‘If I create a product that is custom-fitted to my consumer, who better than I to deliver that product?’. Cutting out the middle man, artists themselves paid for and oversaw the production process, organized album art and duplication and released the product directly the streets. Selling albums literally out of the trunks of their cars as well as fostering relationships with independent record store owners who also benefited from blocking the labels out. They themselves knowing full well what it means to be force-fed label-curated top tens and other pop bullshit.
Vinyl record collections, cassette tape collections, books full of Compact Disks and in some cases DVDs with music-related documentary content. These things slowly grew as we aged and found ourselves. Even to look around at all of the items we had procured gave us a sense of who we were. The room that housed our music was like a glimpse into our soul. A snapshot with a million words and stories and moments behind it.
Now we have our phone. That’s it.
See how the words just dropped all lonely out of the paragraph like that?
It’s a sad state of affairs.
But there is hope
Billboard (Really? After all that, his source is fucking Billboard?) has reported that the sales of vinyl records has increased for 17 straight years. 43.46 million vinyl albums were sold in 2022. That’s 43% of all album sales the year over. Social media and streaming services are slowly but surely losing their grip and once again being relegated to novelty convenience applications. The curtain has been pulled back to reveal that Jay-Z’s famous line ‘Men lie, women lie, numbers don’t’ has not aged well. Saweetie has been kind enough to serve as case-in-point. The ‘rapper’ who, at the time of this writing, has an Instagram following of 12.9 million was recently roasted in the press when she dropped an EP that only sold 2,000 copies.
What In The Actual F*ck?
It that doesn’t prove to you that it doesn’t matter, you’re a lost cause and my advice to you would be to never step foot in the entertainment industry. However, if you too are bothered by this correlation (or lack there of), please read on.
We have now come full circle. Movements that preach the need to cleanse the artistic mind of the preoccupation with social media are quickly gaining popularity. Reverting back to the era when guerrilla marketing was King. The concept of a street team blanketing a city with your stickers, posters and flyers and all of the supporters and connections made while doing so is making its way back into the fold. Word of mouth advertising will never be replaced, though social media has brought us close. That may be the why the current pendulum swing is so dramatic. People are simply sick and tired of scrolling to find the meaning of life. The fact that the term ’social media cleanse’ is a thing (and has been for some time) denotes that it is dangerously pervasive. With the recent popularity and ease-of-use offered by AI, one’s first instinct would be to say to themselves, ‘Wait, that means anyone can do it’. With the all-too obvious downside being: Anyone can do it. The day Canva dropped their Magic Write AI option for document edits, i ran across at least 30 videos in which the quintessential content creator was explaining to me how this would be a game-changer in a way we could never fathom and that now, more than ever, I need to start taking my content making seriously by letting computers do all the work for me. The same work they are doing for everyone else. Except, somehow it’s supposed to be different and unique. But that’s the part they leave out. How can I be unique and on some never-before-seen shit if I’m doing precisely what everyone else is doing? Another heartbreaker for the AI buffs? Google has already put in place AI detecting technology that will automatically initiate their own form of shadow-ban on all of your SEO if they find or suspect that AI has been used to create it. But don’t fret. When you wake up tomorrow, there will a million other content creators dropping videos instructing you on how to skirt AI detection software. Do you see where I’m going with this? Is your motivation to create a commodity that is appreciated by your core audience? Or have your career goals transitioned from that to a computer hacker that minors in internet marketing?
More than ever, people crave connection with an artist, regardless of the media. Audio, video or conceptual, they want YOU.
Many artists are adjusting their focus back to website presentation. With the ease in which an artist can create their own e-commerce website through companies like Squarespace, complete with comment sections, like counts and whatever bell or whistle is commonly used to satiate the viewer.
Point is, we can do it too. We can do it better.
An artist can release a project to their own site and utilize the ‘Proud To Pay’ option where the consumer can pay as much or as little as they’d like for the download. Merchandise or other gated content can be sold right along with it. You can literally build your support system 1 fan at a time. That connection will also endear much longer than the ones garnered my viral Tik Tok or Instagram Reels. That being said, we aren’t idiots. Social Media should still receive updates from those whose main focus is there website community. The website is headquarters. There should always be more content, options, action and opportunity on your website than what is offered on social. Social should be utilized for the sole purpose of drawing traffic to YOUR PLATFORM. Say it: I Am The Platform.
I’m not telling you to delete your Instagram, FaceBook or Tik Tok.
But you should delete them from your phone.
Tim Ferris wrote The 4-Hour Work Week in 2007. In it, he laid a strategy for being less busy and more productive. Interestingly enough, this book was written the year the first iPhone dropped. But already our society was looking for anything to get them away from the rat race. The desire to always be available. A slave to what was then your BlackBerry. The need to check and reply to emails within minutes of reception. MySpace was the only social media platform to speak of at the time and even then, folks took it too far. The book spoke about setting time aside weekly to check and reply to emails. Another to check and respond to social media. The bulk remaining for actual work and whatever interaction that work required. You can set aside as little as one day a week to share all the clips of your content, respond to comments and DM’s and interact with folks you regularly interact with. What you’ll find in doing so is that your hyper focus on social media was for naught. And no one missed you while you were gone. And all that time you used to spend scrolling can be spent creating content for your website and making your community as inviting and comfortable as possible. Through email and text lists, the integrations on your own website can forward content directly to everyone who gives a fuck immediately. Stop posting content to social media FIRST hoping that whatever platform you’re on is in a good enough mood to show it to 4% of the people who actually follow you in hopes of seeing it. Ask yourself what your goal is. Do you want 1 million supporters for a year? Or 10,000 for 20 years? If you can get those 10k to spend $10 a year, you’ll never work again. Are you listening?
This entire essay was designed using no AI. It was however concocted to persuade you. Just like everything else you’ll listen to or read today. The difference? I implore you to stop listening to the noise. Even if I myself become a distraction to you, It warms my heart to know you’ll never listen again. Go. Be the most amplified version of yourself and don’t stop until you’ve pissed a lot of people off. Only then will you have created anything worth fussing over in the first place. When that happens, the world outside of that computer in your pocket will open up in ways that will make you want to leave it there. Do not waste another second looking to the next man for direction or inspiration. Get YOU out first. Fortunately, I’m not going to push you towards any apps or sites that will simplify your process. That alone will simplify your process. You’re welcome.
Kream Soda

(feel free to ignore lol. Ik there are a bunch of posts about wiki, but I wanted my own)
I mean the "Opening paragraphs" section in particular. The people who are holding the article hostage are so annoying. They pretend to be nonpartisan and talk formally and always refer to bullshit wiki rules. Scolding the "ImmersiveOne” dude for pushing an opinion and being passive agressive, while doing the same thing themselves, but way more blatantly and objectively wrong. For example saying stuff like “misogyny is 1000 times worse than misandry”; “The MRA viewpoint is entirely wrong and misguided, so much so that in 2023 a group of authors called it the "misandry myth" “Misandry is a myth”. The only real misandry is against black men (I’m paraphrasing, but ofc gotta hate whites) and there are dumb takes like: men chose to treat men bad, men chose to go to war, men chose to cut genitalia etc (the boy’s at fault for sure!) “Women-are-wonderful effect” is “benevolent sexism” (somehow victims here). They also said that they don’t want to write the article in a neutral way, like showing the arguments of both side, but isn’t wiki supposed to have Neutral POV? That’s what I believed as a kid anyway, lmao. I agree basically with every word that ImmersiveOne has uttered, except for the article’s sources being bad, cuz I don’t see the point of reading any more of the same ideas.
The fact that the most popular knowledge platform claims that Misandry doesn't exist looks to me like an obvious sign of Misandry and it’s the first thing that pops up. It's like Putin writing an article on Ukraine. I don’t understand how calling out Western propaganda is any different from calling out Russian one or any other one. The party says X is true, and if you disagree, then you are considered an enemy. I don’t see gays complaining about oppression on the state media 24/7 because they’re actually oppressed. I don’t really know wiki’s rules but here’s what it looks to me: The article has to be written supporting the mainstream narrative, the sources backing up the article must hold the mainstream belief. It doesn’t matter if the sources are outdated or inaccessible, since it supports the narrative. The sources must be ‘reliable’ aka APPROVED by THE PARTY. If you’re looking for sources nonconforming to the main stream narrative, then you have a “fringe perspective” you’re an EXTREMIST. Any random public personalities, writers, social media comments etc aren’t ‘reliable’ (except when it fits your narrative, like mentioning infamous stuff like 4chan, reddit, manosphere. No twitter, ‘kill all men’, tumblr, quora, media in general tho?). In my opinion you don’t have to be a ‘scholar’ to notice basic patterns and see inequality in things like suicide statistics, standards, hate in the media... All these wiki rules seems extremely convenient for authoritarians, no? If we lived in a world where nazis had won you can imagine what the popular beliefs would be like. Or whem women were actually oppressed (completely irrelevant now cuz modern people didnt experience the oppression/privilege. Why does no one hate on Germans anymore?) I hate this Western hypocrisy. You people preach pseudo-egalitarian principles to the entire world, except when it comes to ‘whitestraightcismen’ and some others like Russians (gotta ban them all). As if the whole world must conform to the chronically online ideas of the anglosphere and care about it’s imaginary first world problems. Why should I feel bad about being white if in my country it’s all about nationalism? Aren’t the words slav and slave connected? I practically never encounter any other races irl, therefore don’t have any opinions on them. But when I see them in media I just roll my eyes, cuz I know they’re probably gonna be toxic.
I don’t understand how liberal men can hate themselves so much. I’m not sorry for being average Russian/Ukranian man, but I wish I weren’t. How can they not notice the blatant misandry everywhere? Especially in the media. Every movie, show, social media post says white men are bad (eg. Gen V 🤮) All buzzwords and insults are gender specific and misandrist: Incel, loser.... Every meme is misandrist: Virgin vs Chad, looksmaxxing (basically bodyshaming, if you’re ugly or don’t meet an arbitrary standard you should die. It’s also popular to make fun of height, hair loss, penis size, erectile dysfunction, glasses, attitude, poverty, lonelines ) , sigma/alpha male (used ironically to belittle men), man vs bear. I keep telling insta I don’t wanna see it, but it keeps showing it to me and trying to convince me that women have it worse somehow, despite being put on a pedestal and protected. Like there are so many posts about ‘baddies’ and men calling themselves unworthy cuz they’re ugly or don’t have an iphone or something. It also keeps trying to convince me that communism is bad for some reason (I really don’t know or care about it, me living in a Capitalist society and not liking doesn’t mean I’m communist lol). Every piece of mainstream info says men are bad. And you all know the irl issues like laws or depressive statistics. Also it seems the ultimate goal man’s life is to date women?
Average girls all over the world see this ‘merican propaganda and start parroting the same things, and get away with it in most countries, of course, since they’ve had a carte blanche since their birth. I’m in Russia and I can’t help, but laugh hysterically when I hear a girl my age complain about the patriarchy conspiracy theory or evil white men (almost all men in Russia lol), these are such alien concepts. Reject Russian propaganda, embrace Western propaganda... truly enlightened. At least a decent amount of Russian men don’t buy it. I’m about to get conscripted. They’ll take unhealthy me over any perfectly fine woman. My best friend killed himself at 16, and I think I’m gonna follow suit lol. The fact that I have to grind in every aspect of my life just because of being Russian and male, while listening to how hard women got it, makes me just wanna die out of spite and jealousy. Maybe the real privileges were mental illnesses we developed along the way.

Hi, everyone! So I have about 12k photos on my iphone that needs to be backed up to my pc. I originally found a method that worked for me but it has been a long time and I rebuilt my pc so that is gone. Therefore Im going to make this post so that I can hunt for the solution and hopefully have something solid set up for everyone. I will start by listing some methods and why they did or did not work.
Methods;

1. Open file explorer and directly open the DCIM folder on the iphone, This works but my main issue is that the photo files themselves do not have their correct dates in their details. For example a photo that I know is a year old states that it was created etc the day that I copied the dcim folder over and it was modified 2 days ago (Not sure why). Now for a good amount of the other photos etc the modified date looks accurate but unfortunately its not enough for this to be reliable. So if you dont care about the date then go this method.
2. Windows photos, I dont even know where to begin, I have had issues with this for YEARS and am pissed that I dont remember what the original fix was. Anyways the app will eventually recognize all of the photos on your device. Once that is done then you will need to either hit Select new, Select all, or choose the photos you want to import. Selecting new only is viable if you got some photos in from your phone previously. Selecting all will get about ~2k photos in before it will just error out by saying "photos partially imported ### photos failed to import". If you select the photos that failed to import it will immediately fail. if you select some of the photos to import it will immediately fail. If you select one of the photos to import it will immediately fail. Resetting the photo app via its windows settings option did not fix the issue. Rebuilding the app via its windows photo settings did not fix the issue. Changing Iphone cables did not fix the issue.
3. Itunes
4. Cloud, I cant afford a cloud based service that can hold this amount of media as its been a while since I backed it up. Also google photos is kinda useless outside of desktop, specifically that theres no way to force upload or see progress, the app was even telling me that it uploaded all the photos i asked it to upload to a specific album and on my desktop or on anyone that I shared it to the album was empty.
   
5. Apple support, I actually went all the way with apple support a few years back I believe on my 8s. At the time I was a bit more computer savvy taking programming classes etc and so when i explained all of my issues to apple I was actually transferred to the higher higher up tech support guys. One of them stayed on the phone with my for hours as we went through this sending him logs etc. We finally found that it was some insanely obscure issue causing this, something was failed or corrupt and I cant remember what it was but the dude said wow that was weird havent seen that before. I was speaking with tech support for atleast 4 days straight trying to solve it.
   

I am not the OOP. The OOP is u/MentalPlatypus5193 posting in amiwrong
Concluded as per OOP
1 update - Medium
Thanks to u/colorsofautomn for finding this BORU
Original - 28th April 2024
Update1 - 10th May 2024
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1 New Update
Update2 - - 18th May 2024
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My son [19M] filed harassment charges against me and my husband because we were making him go to college
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Me and my son moved to US last year. I was a single mom for 16 yrs before I met and then married my husband. I saved up money so he can go to college. Where I came from, college is very important. We moved to a small town and my son found new friends. These friends in my opinion were not a good influence. I am used to polite and academically oriented kids back home. These new friends of his make fun of his books and his plans of going to college.
Before his HS graduation, me and my husband took him to several unis in the state so he could get a feel for which one he would like to go to. Then after he graduated from HS, I told him I have about $20k saved up for college. He said it is not going to fit because tuition is pretty expensive nowadays. I suggested he can just go to a community college 20 mins away and live at home to save money. He agreed and I gave him access to the fund (joint account).
Long story short, he did not enroll himself and instead started partying a lot and used the money on expensive dates with his gf. He moved out and stopped talking to me. I worked hard to save that up for more than a decade and I am upset that he wasted it in less than a year. Me and my husband went to his place and asked that he pay me back since it is specifically for college and not "fun money".
He called the police and filed harassment charges. I told the police to review the cctv footage because the whole time I was talking to him through his ring cam, I was calm and reasonable and my husband was just standing behind me not saying anything. I was outside the door talking, he never even opened the door to talk to me face to face. The police said there's nothing he can do if my son and his gf felt "harassed", he can file a restraining order if he wants to.
Back home, this is unforgivable to treat your parent like this. But here in US, I was treated almost like a criminal. My sister in law said it is my fault for confronting him and that the money is his to spend since I made him a joint account owner. Am I wrong?
Edit: People cursing me because I said something about wanting to throw my chancla on my son's face, to be clear I have never laid my hands or my flip flops on him ever. But after what he did, my intrusive thoughts wants me to throw it but of course I won't. If he called the cops on me just because I want to talk to him, what more if I threw my flip flops on his face??
His relationship with me before moving to US was fine. He knew my struggle as a single mom and he always try to help me around the house. I was not strict at all he was free to go out with friends anytime. He was even thrilled to have a father figure and my husband always try to make him feel included in everything.
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Comments
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ManufacturerAny835
Lesson learned never give someone access to money unless you’re ok with them running away with it

OOP: He was a good boy before moving here. I thought he knew my struggles and how much I sacrificed to save money. I just thought he would never betray me like this.

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dingdongsbtchs
Honestly I think a lot of parents don’t realize the depth of their children and forget that just because you think of them as one way doesn’t mean they don’t have other layers that can make them a different person. Sadly your son has found some less than savory friends to surround himself with and now he has to live with the decision he made. I honestly wouldn’t offer help for university again and would leave communication up to him. Also has there been any questions or discussion of potential drug use??
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2workigo
The money is gone. And since he was a joint account holder and a legal adult, there’s nothing to be done except refuse to help him financially anymore. Let him figure it out on his own from now on. The friends he had will likely drift away now that he no longer has a fat bank account to fund their party lifestyle.
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Treacle_Moon
Her biggest fault is waiting till it was all gone to do something about it. She had joint access. She could have stepped in long before now and tried to deal with it. Too little too late unfortunately.
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Update - 12 days later
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I still have not heard from my son and I don't expect him to reach out. But his gf's mother has called me asking if my house is still open to him. I asked her why, it turns out he hasn't paid his share of the last month's rent and his gf had to pay it for him.
I said it is not my problem and he is not welcome anymore in my house since he is an adult. The gf's mom said "what kind of mother would not extend help to his teenage son?". She further insulted me and said now she knows why he left me.
At this point I really don't care anymore. I tried to help him get a good start in life but he wasted it. Aside from the $20k, he lived rent free in the house, free food, free phone, car, gas money, and I pay all the utility bills and his health insurance. All I asked is that he focus on his studies. Finish at least an associate's degree so he can get a decent job and be fully independent from me asap.
For some who asked why college is so important to me, as an immigrant, we are held under certain standards. We have to prove to USCIS that we will not become a public charge -- meaning we won't rely on any government aid. I want him to be able to be a good immigrant and become productive. I don't even know if he can become a citizen if he makes below poverty income. I was just trying to make sure he gets to live a good life.
Some of you asked if he even wanted go to to college. Back when we were in our home country, he begged me to pls send him to college no matter what.
P.S. The harassment charge was closed for lack of evidence of harassment, a lot of what he said were lies.
Edit: Another thing that gave me chills was when he moved out it was the middle of the night and me and my husband were both asleep. My son left the front door hanging open (I saw it in the camera). We live in a small town but there's a lot of crime in our area, someone could have gone in and done something bad.
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Comments
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bluedreamer62
Some people just have to learn the hard way, his gf probably had a good time with him spending his college fund now 5hat it’s gone the fun is over. So comes the reality.
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PoliteCanadian2
So you’re saying this is the Find Out stage that follows the Fuck Around stage?
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Sharp_Mathematician6
Yep
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SnooWords4839
His GF's mom has no right to bitch you out. Your son left, spend his college fund and now has to figure out how to adult. You do not owe him anything at this point.
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ladyalcove
She's just calling her out because she's realizing that now she has to take care of this bum.
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butterfly-garden
Yup. She, too, is in the Find Out stage.
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** New Update*\*
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Update 2 - 8 days later
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His girlfriend's mom called me again today and basically handed the phone to my son to "sort it out between us". I let him just talk and tell me what is on his mind. Here's a summary of his point of view:

• He felt like I deprived him of a lot of things growing up. I couldn't buy him an Xbox/playstation, iphone, or anything a teenager wants when we were in our home country. I can't afford it. Back then I was making $1k a month and saving 20% of it for his college fund and whatever was left was for us to live on. I was helping my parents too with some groceries so money was really really tight. When I look back now, I don't know how I made it all fit.
• He felt so small because his clothes were hand me downs from cousins or just cheap clothes I bought from tianguis.
• He said I was not supportive unlike his friend's parents. Some of his friends have wealthy parents who bought their sons a house and never had to go to college or think about their future because they will inherit the family farm anyway. I have no generational wealth to be that supportive. I wish I have.
• He said I have so much house rules. Yes I do. I want him to wash his plates after eating (I used to do it for him), clean his room and keep it tidy, make sure the windows are tightly shut in winter, keep the thermostat at 68 during winter to save electricity, come home at 11pm or else the house will be double locked from the inside for my safety (because my husband drives a truck and not home at night most the time). I also told him before that since he has a part time job, he can't use my credit card for anything but emergency anymore, but he still used it sometimes anyway (card's been frozen since he moved out).
• I asked him why file charges when I only wanted some explanation from him. He said he don't want to inconvenience his gf and filing charges is the easiest way to get me to stop trying to talk to him.

So basically he felt deprived as a kid and that he thinks he was just healing his inner child when he spent the money. He said his friends told him I owe that to him for bringing him to this world. He thinks that I should not have a child if I can't afford these things.
I asked him why he left the door open that night. He went silent for a few seconds then said "I just thought that if the house get robbed, I could just say I cashed the money from the bank and the robbers must have found it". Unbelievable.
At this point I was so emotional and I was a crying mess. I told him I am deeply sorry that I was his mom and that he had to grow up feeling deprived because I was poor. Then he said "Oh stop with your guilt tripping, you are saying that to make me feel bad.
Oh and he also said he hates it when I do this. I don't yell like that lady but I pretty much bug him to get up and help me set the table. I never get a response so I had to raise my voice higher. He said I was so rude. But he grew up with this. This is me being me. All moms back home do this. Al of a sudden he is comparing me to his mom's friends. In our culture we want food to be eaten while it is fresh from the stove. I spent 1 hr cooking after a long day at work, the least you can do is help me set the table and eat my food while it's nice and warm.
I hung up. My heart is broken in so much pieces. Am I wrong?
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Comments
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Whitewitchie
He has a chip on both shoulders. Leave him be. It's despicable he left the door open so you were vulnerable to burglars. Absolutely no consideration for your safety at all.
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Mtndrums
Dude's a spoiled brat, and an idiot to not see his "friends" were using him. You need to cut him off and let him figure things out.
dublos
Not spoiled. Mom could not spoil him.
Entitled.
This child believes he's entitled to the same things his friends grew up with, even though his parents provided the best they could provide.
u/MentalPlatypus5193 your son has made his bed. Let him sleep in it.
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I am not the OOP. Please do not harass the OOP. Please remember the No Brigading Rule and to be civil in the comments

”Stop.”
I really needed the bathroom.
For fifty painstaking minutes, I had been staring at the clock on the wall, willing it to go faster, uncomfortably shifting side to side in my seat so much that I was starting to get weird looks.
2:52pm.
Eight minutes, I thought dizzily, squeezing my legs together.
Which was just two chunks of four minutes.
Four chunks of two minutes.
The pain started like normal stomach pain, the kind I could deal with.
I swallowed two Tylenol with lukewarm soda.
But this was different.
This kind of pain was contorting and twisting my gut so much, I had to keep leaning onto my left buttock for relief.
I must have done it so many times, I caught the attention of the guy sitting next to me. Roman Hemlock who was half asleep, dark blonde curls hanging in half lidded eyes, his chin leaning on his fist. He shot me a look. I couldn't tell if it was Are you okay? or Can you stop moving around so much?
From the single crease in his brow, the slight curl in his lip, I guessed the latter.
It's not like Roman was helping.
For half the class, he'd been tapping his foot on the floor, then his chair leg, and to complete the orchestra, his fingers joined in, tap, tap, tapping on the edge of his desk. I didn't know if it was a bored thing, an ADHD thing, or he was trying to keep himself awake. It was easy to tolerate without the pain, but with it, the boy’s incessant tapping was more akin to a dentist drill splitting my skull open. I already felt nauseous, the sad looking chicken nuggets I forced down at lunch making an unwelcome appearance at the back of my throat.
It was too fucking hot, the stuffy summer air glueing my hair to the back of my neck. The material of my shirt was making me cringe, sticky against my skin.
Tipping my head back, the lights were too bright. Every sound was too loud. Imogen Prairie, who was sitting behind me chewing her gum a little too loudly.
Kaz Samuels scribbling notes like a maniac.
I could hear every stroke of his pencil, every time he paused, looked up at the presentation, and continued writing.
When I leaned forward in my chair, I could smell exactly what Isabella Trinity had eaten for lunch, the stink hanging in the air.
It became a case of sucking in my stomach and taking slow, deep breaths.
I’d never had these kinds of stomach cramps before. But it didn't take me long to figure out what they were.
I was yet to start my period at the grand age of sixteen, which meant this was it.
After countless sessions with the doctor, and feeling like a social outcast among my group of friends who started their periods in middle school, it had finally happened. The cramps in my gut that felt like my torso was being ripped apart, was in fact me entering womanhood. When my breath started to quicken, my mouth watering, I raised my hand, biting my lip against a cry.
Fuck.
Something lurched in my gut, a wave of nausea crashing into me.
I was going to throw up.
“Mr Brighton.”
Roman spoke up before me, waving his arm. “Can I use the bathroom?”
The teacher’s answer was always the same. Which was why I had been crossing my legs for the entirety of the class, unable to focus on anything but my gut trying to twist itself inside out.
Mr Brighton leaned against the wall, his eyes glued to the PowerPoint awash in our faces. We had been staring at the exact same slide for maybe five minutes now, and our physics teacher was yet to speak, his gaze somewhere else.
Mr Brighton was my Dad’s age, a greying man in his early fifties who always wore the exact same suit with the exact same stain on his collar.
The man was about as interesting as watching paint dry.
Normally, I would drift off myself, lulled into slumber by the low drone of his voice.
But the pain ripping me apart was keeping me awake.
“Mr Brighton.” Roman said, louder. His voice snapped me out of it. “Can I use the bathroom?” He paused, exaggerating a loud sigh. ”Please?”
The teacher straightened up, folding his arms.
“Mr Hemlock, you know the rules. Why didn't you go before class?”
“I didn't need to go an hour ago, did I?”
“You will no longer need to go to the bathroom, Mr Hemlock.”
Roman made a snorting noise.
“What?”
The low murmur of my classmates collapsed into white noise.
Glancing at the clock, I was anticipating the school bell.
The sickness swimming in the pit of my belly was reaching dangerous territory.
2:52pm.
Something ice cold trickled down my spine.
It was 2:52 the last time I checked, and five minutes had surely passed.
This time, I waited a whole minute and counted the seconds under my breath. The clock still didn't move. The ticker was frozen halfway between three and four.
Slowly, the same realisation began to hit the twelve of us. The clock on the wall had stopped. But it wasn't the only thing that had stopped. The cool breeze drifting through the window was gone.
The sound of birds outside, and the cheer squad practising their routine.
Everything had stopped. Trying to ignore a sickly slither of panic twisting its way through me, I checked my phone under my desk. There was a text from my Mom lighting up my notifications. When I tried to swipe it open, nothing happened. My lock screen was frozen, stuck at 2:52pm.
With my hands growing clammy around my phone, I stared at the time, willing it to move, to flick to 2:53.
But nothing happened, the numbers stubbornly staying at 2:52.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Roman’s voice brought me back to reality, though I was sure I'd dropped my phone. I heard it hit the floor with a sickening crack. Whatever he was saying, though, faded into dull murmur, when I turned toward the window.
Something was wrong outside.
The cheer squad were nowhere to be seen.
Being on the top floor gave us a front row seat to their practice sessions.
I stopped watching when their flyer did a death defying flip, almost breaking her neck. 2:52pm. I couldn't see the cheer squad. But I did see Jessie Carson mid-sprint across the track field, strawberry blonde curls suspended in a halo around her.
I could see exactly where she had frozen in place, her left foot hovering off of the ground, her right foot driving momentum. It wasn't just Jessie who had stopped. The dirt she was kicking into a cloud behind her was hovering, caught in mid-air.
Studying the faces around me, my mouth went dry.
Roman Hemlock, mid-argument with our physics teacher.
His eyes were wide, lips curved into what would have been a yell.
Fuck.
Was I the only one?
But then Roman blinked, and I realized the boy wasn't frozen. He was trying to think of a comeback. “What do you mean I won't need the bathroom anymore?”
“Mr Hemlock, please lower your voice.”
“Why? You can't dictate to me when I do and don't need the bathroom, dude!”
Moving onto the rest of my class, the others were still moving.
It was too quiet, though.
Yes, Roman was still tapping his foot.
Imogen was still chewing her gum.
Kaz was still scribbling notes like a psychopath.
But they were the only noise I could hear.
I wasn't the only one confused. The classroom had pricked with a sense of urgency. Kids were checking their phones, their gazes glued to the clock. Even Roman, who was still arguing, was starting to notice. I watched his gaze lazily roll to the clock on the wall.
I pretended not to see his cheeks visibly paling.
We had all come to the exact same terrifying conclusion.
2:52pm.
Time had come to a halt, and somehow, we had not.
“Is that clock broken?” Roman interrupted, leaning forward in his chair.
Kaz twisted around, settling the boy with an eye-roll.
“Check your phone, dumbass.”
“I broke my phone.”
Imogen threw her iPhone at him, narrowly missing hitting him in the face.
“Everything is frozen,” She said, her voice shuddering. “It's not just the clock.”
I waited for Roman’s response. For once, though, he was speechless.
“Well done, Imogen. That is correct.” Mr Brighton spoke up, tearing a piece of paper from a workbook and striding over to the door, glueing it over the glass window. When we started to protest, some of us were shouting, while others bursting into tears, he calmly took out his key and locked us in.
I should have been surprised that our teacher had spontaneously decided to take his entire class hostage, but the rumor mill had been churning.
According to Becca Jason, the guy’s wife divorced him and took his kids.
I could feel myself sinking into my chair, phantom bugs filling my mouth.
So, this guy had nothing to lose.
Taking his place in front of his desk, the man settled us with a patient smile.
“From now on, you will stay inside this room.” He said. “In case you haven't noticed, time is currently frozen at fifty two minutes past two. The thirteen of us are tucked into the twenty first second, and will be, for the foreseeable future.”
I could tell the others wanted to argue, but we couldn't deny that time had stopped. Kaz was staring down at his frozen phone, Imogen hyperventilating behind me, Roman glaring at the clock, chewing on a pencil. We wanted it to be a prank, a joke, some kind of glitch in the matrix that would fix itself.
But then a whole minute passed by. Followed by another. Kaz threw his phone on the floor, hissing in frustration. Imogen let out a wet sounding sob.
Roman’s pencil split in his mouth, slipping from his fingers. We couldn't pretend it wasn't happening or call our teacher out on his BS, because it was everywhere around us. The sudden absence of outdoor ambience, birdsong, planes flying overhead, and traffic outside the school gates. Everyone and everything had stopped, and we were the only ones left.
This was a nightmare, surely.
My physics class were some of the most boring and pretentious people in the school, and somehow the world had been reduced to the twelve of us inside our classroom. We were scared, of course we were. But reality had stopped making sense, crashing and burning in a single second. We had no choice but to listen to our teacher. “Now, before you freak out, it may not feel like it, but the twelve of you have also stopped.”
Mr Brighton held out his own hand, and placed it on his heart.
He was right.
I was so busy trying to understand what was happening, I had failed to realize my period cramps were gone.
“Do me a favor, and press your hand over your heart.”
“You mean like, in a culty way?” Imogen whispered.
“Obviously.” Roman grumbled, halfway out of his seat. He was hesitant, though, in case our teacher was armed. It only took one glance from our teacher, and he slumped back into his chair. “This crazy fucker clearly wants to play mind games with us.”
“No, I'm just asking you to feel for your heart.”
I felt for mine, and there was nothing, my stomach twisting.
Roman stabbed his fingers into his neck, feeling for a pulse.
He tried his wrist.
Then his heart.
Nothing.
“The twelve of you are currently in a state of stasis,” the teacher explained to us, “You are not alive, nor are you dead. Your bodily functions are also on pause, such as your heartbeat and your pulse. In this state there will be no need for food and water, or going to the bathroom.” His gaze found a ghastly looking Roman, who looked like he was going to faint. “Your minds, however, as you can see, are working as usual.”
“But why?” Imogen demanded in a shriek.
Mr Brighton’s lip curled. “I would rather not answer that question.”
“Because you're lonely.” Roman spoke up. He swung back on his chair, narrowed eyes glued to the teacher.
“Your wife and kids left you, so you're asserting power over a group of sixteen year olds. Which is kinda fucking pathetic.”
Mr Brighton’s expression darkened, and something slimy crept up my throat.
The worst thing any of us could do was threaten him. He had taken kidnapping to a whole new level, and we were alone with this psychopath, trapped inside a second. I waited for the man to stride forward and attack the kid. But he didn't. Instead, the teacher leaned back on his desk. “Yes.” The man nodded.
“I suppose you could say I am.”
“But why us?!” Kaz hissed.
“Because you are children.” Mr Brighton responded casually.
He straightened up, taking slow, intimidating steps towards Roman’s desk. The rest of us leaned back. I tried to pull my desk with me, but it was glued to the floor. Frozen. Mr Brighton’s shoes went click-clack across the hardwood floor.
“You are right,” the man said in a murmur, “I am lonely. My wife and kids did leave me, and I have nobody left to control. I have nobody else to contort and use to my advantage.” Reaching Roman’s desk, he leaned in close until he was nose to nose with the kid.
“Congratulations, Mr Hemlock. You have just earned yourself detention.”
Roman stayed stubbornly still, but he was visibly afraid. I could see him very slowly backing away. Roman was all bark and no bite. He was a loud mouth, sure, but he was also the least confrontational person in the class.
“What?” He spluttered. “You trap us in a time loop or time trap, or whatever, and you still want to act like a teacher?”
“Stand up.” The teacher ordered.
“What if I don't?”
Mr Brighton’s expression didn't waver. “You said it yourself. I can and have trapped you inside a single second. What else do you think I'm capable of?”
Roman stood, kicking his chair out of the way.
“What are you planning on doing to me, old man?”
The teacher maintained his smile. “Stand up straight, and close your mouth.”
To my confusion, Roman Hemlock did all the above.
He straightened up, and closed his mouth.
“Do not fight me.” The teacher said calmly, “Do as you are told, and follow me.”
The boy did exactly as instructed.
His jaw slackened, that rebellious light in his eyes fizzling out.
I think that's when we all collectively agreed that going against this teacher and trying to escape was mental suicide.
“I will use Mr Hemlock as an example to all of you,” Mr Brighton said, turning to the rest of us. “If you break the rules or are derogatory in any way, you will be given detention.”
He grabbed the boy’s shoulders, forcing him to walk towards the supply closet. Roman moved like a robot, slightly off balance, his gaze glued to thin air, like he was tracking invisible butterflies.
"Your time in detention will depend on the severity of your rule-break.” He opened the door, gently pushing Roman inside, and following suit. When the door closed behind them, there was a pause, and I remembered how to breathe.
Kaz Samuels slowly got up from his desk, inching towards the closet.
“This guy is a certified nut.” He announced.
He turned towards us. “Whatever he's doing to Hemlock, we’re probably next.”
“He stopped time.” I spoke up, my own voice barely a croak. “He’s capable of anything.”
“But how did he stop time?” Kaz whistled, tipping his head back. The boy was slow, his fingers grasping each desk as he slid down the aisle. “He said he was lonely, right? But why take it out on us? What did we do to him?”
“Check his desk for a weapon!” Imogen whisper-shrieked.
Kaz nodded, striding over to the man's desk, his hands moving frantically, shoving paper on the floor. He took an uncertain seat on the man's chair. “There's nothing here,” he murmured, lifting stained coffee mugs and ancient textbooks. “It's just…test papers.” Kaz ducked from view, trying the drawers.
“He's a fan of Pokémon,” he said, “There's a tonne of Pokémon cards,” Kaz straightened up, running a hand through his hair. “No sign of a weapon, though.”
He picked up a ruler, waving it around. “This could work. If we plunge it in his eye.”
“Try his laptop!” Imogen was halfway out of her seat.
Kaz did, slamming the keys. “It's locked.”
“Look harder!” Ren Clarke threw a pencil at him.
“I am!”
After a minute of searching, Kaz grabbed a single piece of paper.
He held it up, and I squinted.
It was a list of our names, with several of them highlighted.
“Fuck.” Kaz dropped the list, his expression crumpling. The stubborn bravado facade transforming him into our sort of leader dissipated, hollowing him out into exactly what he was. Just a scared kid. Kaz’s hands were shaking.
“Mr Brighton’s got a hit list.” He whispered. “He's going to kill us.”
“How do you know that?” I found myself asking.
Kaz slowly dropped into a crouch, picking up the paper and holding it up.
“Look.” He pointed to a capitalised name at the top of the list highlighted in red.
ROMAN HEMLOCK.
There were six names highlighted in red, including mine.
CRISTA ADAMS.
As if on cue, Roman’s cry rang out from the supply closet, suddenly, freezing us all in place. Kaz jumped up, adapting the expression of a deer caught in headlights, eyes wide, almost unseeing.
He fell over himself to tidy up the desk, putting everything back where he had found it, sliding the list between a pile of test papers. Kaz took slow, stumbled steps back, his feverish gaze glued to the closet, before turning and making a break for it and diving into his seat.
“Brighton’s got a hit liiiist,” Kaz said, in a mocking sing-song, “And we’re all on it.”
What followed was deathly silence. I think we were expecting Roman to cry out again. But when he didn't, the class started to stir. Some kids started praying to a god they didn't believe in, while others were in varying states of denial, trying to call their parents with dead phones.
I wasn't sure what parts of me had stopped, but I was still alive, still felt like my lungs were deprived of oxygen, my chest aching. I'm not sure how long I sat there, trying to find my voice, a shriek trying and failing to rip through my mouth. Being kidnapped and held hostage is one thing, but being imprisoned inside a single, never ending second, was an existential hell worse than death. Slowly, I pressed my palm over my heart once again. Then I breathed into my cupped hands.
I was expecting it, but no longer being able to feel my own heartbeat and breath, was fear I didn't think was possible. The kind that glued me to my seat, hollowing me out completely until I was nothing, an empty shell with no heartbeat, no breath, no thoughts, except denial, followed by acceptance.
And finally, regret.
I regretted not hugging my mother goodbye before I left for school.
I regretted acting like a spoiled brat when my parents refused to drive me halfway across the country so I could attend Coachella.
I regretted stepping inside Mr Brighton’s fourth period physics class.
Mr Brighton reappeared, slamming the door behind him and locking the boy inside. Part of me flinched, while the rest of me remembered not to move a muscle. I was barely aware of time passing. Or it wasn't. Time had stopped, so now long had I been sitting there?
I could no longer measure the passage of time with hunger or thirst, and my body felt the same. I wasn't stiff or tired or achy. Looking out of the window, the sky was the exact same crystal blue, every cloud in the exact same place.
Jessie Carson was still frozen mid-run, strands of dark red hair caught around her.
“What's wrong with you guys?” Mr Brighton chuckled, and I twisted back to the front, a shiver writhing down my spine. “Why don't you give me a smile?”
The teacher returned to his desk, and I was already subconsciously sitting up straight in my seat, forcing my lips into a jaw-breaking grin, following Brighton’s instructions. In the corner of my eye, Imogen was sitting very still, forcing an award-winning cheesy smile, while Kaz grinned through gritted teeth.
“Mr Hemlock just earned himself two weeks inside the supply closet.” he said casually, perching himself on the edge of his desk. The man studied each of us, taking his time to rip every shred of us apart.
Mind, body, and soul.
I struggled to maintain my stupid smile, shoving my shaking hands in my lap.
“Would anyone like to join him, or are you going to follow the rules?”
The rest of us stayed silent. I don't think any of us breathed.
Our teacher nodded to Kaz, inclining his head.
“Samuels. Are you all right?”
Kaz’s smile faltered slightly. He shifted in his chair. I could see sweat trickling down his right temple. “Uh, yeah.” He swiped at his forehead, like he couldn't believe he was sweating. “Yeah, I'm good.”
The teacher’s eyes narrowed. He moved toward his desk, and we all held our breaths. Mr Brighton seemed to study his hit-list, lips curving into a frown.
His gaze flicked to the boy, and then the paper.
He knew, I thought dizzily.
Mr Brighton knew the kid had been rummaging through his desk. But this was all about control. The teacher was using fear to control us, to manipulate our thoughts without having to get physical. He could have called out the boy right then, but Brighton was settling with mental torture instead. He just wanted to make my classmate squirm.
Without a word, the man folded up the piece of paper and slipped it into his pocket. “Mr Samuels, you are sweating,” our physics teacher said, mocking a frown. “Are you feeling okay?”
Kaz hesitated, tapping his shoe in a rhythm.
Being one of the smartest kids in the room definitely gave him an advantage.
I could already see the cogs turning behind half lidded eyes. Kaz was weighing each scenario, sorting them into positives and negatives.
The positives of answering would mean he was one step towards being in the clear, but there were two negatives.
Brighton would question him if he had left his seat, and then demand how his hit-list had magically moved across the desk.
Talking back was surely a rule-break, as well as outright lying.
Opening his mouth would get him in trouble, either way, and Kaz knew that.
So, he just nodded, forcing an even bigger smile.
Brighton’s lips pricked, his gaze straying on Kaz. “Good!” He cleared his throat, turning to the class. Kaz slumped in his seat with a sharp breath, resting his head in his arms. If Mr Brighton noticed, he didn't say anything. “Ignore the sweating. It should stop, along with hunger and thirst.”
Our teacher seemed to be able to manipulate everything in his vicinity.
Time.
Minds.
And slowly… contorting us into his own.
In the single second we were trapped inside, I felt days go by in a dizzying whirlwind that was like being permanently high. When I stood up, I felt like I was floating.
When I sat down, hours could go by, even days, and I wouldn't even feel them. I did try and count the days, initially, scribbling them on a scrap piece of paper, but somewhere around the thirteenth or fourteenth day, I lost count. The world around us never changed, in permanent stasis, and maybe that was sending us a little crazy.
After a while of being stuck at our desks, Mr Brighton allowed us to wander the classroom, as long as we stayed away from the door. I lay on the floor for days, counting ceiling tiles.
Sometimes, Imogen would join me.
I couldn't sleep, but I could pretend to sleep, imagining a world that was back to normal. I didn't feel hungry, but my brain did like to remind me of food at the weirdest times. I was aware of weeks passing us by, and then months.
I never grew hungry or tired, and my bodily functions were none existent.
I couldn't remember what pain felt like, or the urge to go to the bathroom. Even the concept of eating and drinking became foreign to me. Putting something in your mouth and chewing to sustain yourself?
That sounded odd.
The only thing that was changing was our slowly unravelling metal state.
I don't know how it started. Weekends and Tuesdays blended together. On one particular SaturTuesday, I was hanging upside down from my desk, watching Kaz and Imogen doodle on the whiteboard.
Kaz had a plan to escape, but after a while, his ‘plan’ to distract the teacher, had gone nowhere. After passing notes between us, the twelve of us had decided that we needed a weapon.
That was maybe a month ago. I wasn't sure what mind games our teacher was playing, but Kaz Samuels, who we were counting on to be our brains, was slowly falling under his spell. Their game had been going on for three days. The two of them were having a competition to see who could draw the craziest thing.
Mr Brighton was at his desk as usual, marking papers.
Imogen was drawing a weird looking ‘skateboard’ when the doors to the storage closet flew open.
Roman Hemlock appeared, and to my surprise, wasn't a hollow eyed shell.
He held up his hand in a wave, his lips forming a small smile.
“Yo.”
Roman’s reappearance was enough to snap us out of it. Kaz and Imogen stopped arguing, the rest of the class going silent. I sat up, blinking rapidly.
I was sure our collective consensus was that Roman Hemlock was dead.
Mr Brighton lifted his head and gave the boy a civil nod. “Mr Hemlock will be rejoining us,” he said, his gaze going back to marking papers. “Please make him feel comfortable. I'm sure he's very excited to be able to talk to you again.”
Instead of going to his desk, the boy immediately joined the others, snatching the marker off of a baffled looking Kaz, and drawing an overly artistic sketch of a penis. I wasn't sure what confused me more. The fact that Roman Hemlock had some serious artistic skills, or that he seemed suspiciously fine for someone who had been locked in the storage closet for two weeks with no social interaction.
With my last few lingering brain cells still clinging on, I studied the boy.
There were no signs of bruises or scratches.
His eyes seemed normal, not diluted or half lidded.
Unable to stop myself, I jumped off of my desk and joined the others, where Kaz was already interrogating the guy.
“WHAT–”
Imogen nudged him, and he lowered his voice, leaning against the wall. “What did he do to you?”
Roman shrugged, rolling his eyes. “Relax, dude. He didn't do anything to me.”
“Then what was that yell?” Imogen hissed.
The boy cocked his head. “Yell?”
“You yelled out,” Kaz folded his arms, narrowing his eyes. He was already suspecting one of us had been compromised– or worse, brainwashed into compliance. Kaz stepped closer, backing Roman into the desk. “You cried out when you first went in there,” he murmured, “So, what was that?”
Something in Roman’s eyes darkened. “Oh,” He said, his lip curling. “That.”
Kaz’s expression softened. He rested his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “Yeah,” He whispered. “What did he do to you?”
Imogen shoved Kaz out of the way, shooting the boy a glare.
“You don't have to tell us, you know.” She said in a small voice. “If it's too traumatising, or he did something you don't want to talk about–”
Roman cut her off with a laugh, and suddenly, all eyes were on him.
The remaining nine of us were eagerly awaiting an explanation.
“Are you fucking serious?”
When Kaz didn't respond, Roman gathered us in a kind of hustle, the four of us grouped together. I felt like I was on the football field. Still, though, if the guy’s goal was to look as suspicious as possible, he was doing a great job.
Roman studied each of us, one eyebrow cocked. When Mr Brighton glanced up from his work, Roman shot him a grin, lowering his voice to a hiss.
“You seriously think our fifty year old physics teacher has been abusing me in the storage closet?
“Then why did you cry out?” Kaz demanded. “Did he hit you?”
Roman stuck out his bottom lip. “I'm pretty sure he didn't hit me.”
“So, you cried out for no reason.”
“Why are you covering for him?” Imogen poked his forehead. “Are you lobotomised?”
Roman wafted her hand away. “Stop prodding me, and no, I'm 100% good.” He backed away from us, like we were observers, and he was the zoo attraction.
“I won't be, if you keep treating me like I'm senile.”
“Okay, fine,” Kaz sighed. “Just answer one.”
“Shoot.”
“When you first went in there, you made an unmistakable sound of distress–”
“Not this again,” Roman groaned. “Of course I yelled! I was shoved into a pitch black storage closet on my own! What, did you expect me to stay silent?”
Kaz didn't look convinced, Imogen nervously sucking her teeth.
The boy leaned back, resting his head against the wall. His eyes flickered shut.
“Stop looking at me like that, there's nothing to tell you,” he murmured, “Brighton didn't do shit to me. I was just freaked out.” Prying one eye open, he fixed us with a glare. “I am so sorry for reacting like a human. Next time, I'll make sure to attack him and pin him to the ground.”
It's not like we believed him. I don't think Roman believed himself.
Something significant had changed in him. He was no longer argumentative, like half of his personality had been torn away. Roman set a precedent. Because once he was following instructions and walking around with a dazed smile, others began to follow. I can't remember how much time had passed since I thought about escaping.
Days and weeks and months had collapsed into fleeting seconds I only noticed when I wasn't playing games.
I wasn't aware of my own lack of sanity until I found myself, on a random SaturWednesday. I was laughing, gathered with the others on the floor, around a Monopoly board. The game had been going on for almost a week.
Reality hit me when I was laughing so hard I tipped back.
I can't remember why I was laughing. I think Imogen told a bad joke.
“Hand it over.” Roman, who was the King of Monopoly, held out his hand, demanding my last 250 bucks. I remember noticing his smile, my foggy brain trying to find hints that he was in some kind of trance, or being controlled by Brighton. But no. His smile was real.
Genuine.
To my shock and confusion, so was mine.
I wasn't in a trance or any type of mind manipulation. I was completely conscious.
Was this… Stockholm syndrome? I thought dizzily.
Was I enjoying this?
My thoughts were like cotton candy, disconnected and wrong, and they barely felt like my own. My gaze found Imogen and Kaz, the two of them sitting shoulder to shoulder, enveloped in the game.
They looked exactly the same, their hair, clothes, everything about them staying stagnant. It was them themselves who had drastically changed. I had never seen them look so carefree. Imogen was a hotheaded cheerleader, and Kaz was the smart kid who gave himself nosebleeds from overworking himself. But now, they were laughing, nudging each other, caught up in an inside joke. Blinking slowly, my gaze strayed on them.
Sure, it could be manipulation. It could be brainwashing. But it could also be real.
Kaz caught my eye, raising a brow.
“You good, Christa?”
Shaking my head, I nodded.
Again, my smile felt real. Like I was having fun.
“Good. It's your turn.”
I picked up the dice, throwing them across the board.
Two sixes.
“I can already see her landing on one of my hotels.” Roman murmured. He sat up, resting his chin on his knees. “As the clear winner, I have a proposition.”
Ignoring him, I moved my piece– immediately landing on Park Place.
“I'll give you 500,” Roman announced, “If you give up New York avenue.”
“That's all I've got!”
Imogen nudged me. “Don't do it. If you give him New York Avenue, he only needs one more.”
“One thousand.” Roman waved the notes in my face.
“My final offer.”
When I reached for the cash, he held it back.
“New York Avenue, he said, with a grin.
“And your pride.”
Reluctantly, I handed my only property over.
Kaz threw the dice and moved his piece, and I half remembered we had an escape plan. “Community chest.” Kaz picked up a card. “Go straight to jail.”*
Roman spluttered. “That's karma,” he said, “For stealing from the bank.”
“You were stealing too!”
We had a plan.
We had…. a plan.
After discussing it in detail, Imogen and I were going to try and get onto Brighton’s laptop. It wasn't a perfect way to escape, but it was coherent.
So, what happened?
We were going to get out, so what… what was this?
Kaz’s earlier words hit me from months ago.
“Mr Brighton *is the thing keeping us here,”* he explained. “If we kill him, I'm like, 98% sure we’ll go back to normal.”
“Okay, and what if he dies and we’re *stuck?”* Imogen whisper-shrieked.
“I said 98% for a reason. Yes, there's a small chance his power will die with him. But there's a bigger chance that its effects will die when he does.”
Ren nodded slowly. “Right, and where exactly did you learn this information?”
“You'll feel a lot better if I don't answer that.”
“Okay.” Ren gritted his teeth. “So, we just need to find a weapon, right?”
“And don't tell Hemlock,” Kaz rolled his eyes. “I don't care what he says, that boy definitely had his mind fucked with. Hemlock is a liability. If we tell Roman, he tells Brighton, and we’re screwed.” Kaz nodded to me, then the others. “Keep your mouths shut.”
Presently, I wasn't sure the boy wanted to escape.
Slowly, I rolled my eyes over to Mr Brighton, who had joined us to play.
He was happily marking papers, taking part when he could.
It felt…right.
Not like we had been forced or manipulated, but more like he belonged. Part of me wanted to question why I felt like this, but I found that I didn't care. I didn't care that we were essentially dead, in a never ending stasis and stuck inside fifty two minutes past two. I stopped thinking about the outside world a long time ago.
I couldn't even remember my Mom’s face.
I made my decision, dazedly watching Imogen throw a chance card at Roman.
He flung one back, threatening to tip the board.
I wanted to stay.
In the corner of my eye, however, someone was still awake.
Ren, who had been sitting next to me, kept moving, further and further away. I didn't notice until he was inching towards our teacher, a box cutter clenched between his fist. There must have been a point when we found a box cutter, when we made it our weapon of choice.
But somewhere along the way, I think we just… lost the longing to want to escape.
I didn't see the exact moment the boy stabbed the blade into the man's neck, plunging it through his flesh, but I did feel a sudden jolt, like time itself was starting to falter and tremble.
Mr Brighton dropped to the ground, and I found my gaze flashing to the frozen clock.
Which was moving, suddenly.
Slowly creeping towards 2:53pm.
Something sticky ran underneath me, warm and wet.
Blood.
Blood that was running.
Roman’s half lidded eyes found mine, and he blinked, dropping the dice.
Like he'd been asleep for a long time.
2:53pm.
We were free.
The cool spring breeze grazing my cheeks was back. I could feel my own heartbeat, sticky sweat on my forehead.
And outside, Jessie Carson let out a gut-churning scream.
For a disorienting moment, I don't think any of us believed we were free.
Roman twisted around, his gaze on the doorway.
The piece of paper the teacher had stuck to the glass slipped away.
But Roman’s gaze was glued to the door, his cheeks paling.
His lips parted into a silent cry.
Following his eyes, I glimpsed a shadow.
A shadow that was frozen at 2:52pm.
2:53pm.
“Fuck.” Roman whispered, stumbling to his feet.
He turned to the rest of us, his eyes wild.
“Get DOWN!”
When the thing crashed through the door, our classroom exploding around us, chairs splintering against the walls, I was already dropping to my knees, crawling under a desk. It took me a moment to understand I was already kneeling in what was left of Imogen.
Her body had been hollowed out, singed straight through.
I was crawling through pieces of her flesh, mounds of her bisected brain.
Keeping my hand over my mouth, I watched this… thing.
A bulbous black monster, chewing its way through my classmates. Blood splattered the walls, raining from the ceiling, and that same striking pain ripped through my gut, agonising enough to force a cry through my lips.
My frantic gaze found the clock.
2:54pm.
Lurching forwards, I heaved up what was left of my lunch, agonising pain wrenching my stomach back and forth.
I jumped when another body joined me, thankfully alive, squeezing under the desk.
Roman, his face slick and dripping scarlet.
When the thing was gone, neither of us moved.
3:05pm.
“What are those things?” I managed to get out.
“I don't know,” Roman whimpered, covering his mouth. “But they're everywhere.”
3:10pm.
Another thing found our classroom. This time I saw it up close, a giant, bulbous black thing with an eye stalk. It knew we were there, peeking under the desk we were hiding. But it didn't kill us.
The thing left the room, stopping to gorge on half of Ren’s torso.
Roman shot me a questioning look, but I could only be relieved.
3:15pm.
Roman threw up black slime all over me.
He caught my eye, swiping his mouth. “Well, that can't be good.”
The pain in my gut was getting harder to deal with.
3:20pm.
“Did you have chicken nuggets for lunch?” Roman murmured. He got a little too close, his breath on my neck.
I had to suck in my stomach to stop the pain.
I was going hot and cold, sweat dripping down the back of my neck.
“Why?” I hissed back, taking deep, shaky breaths.
“I dunno,” Roman murmured, “I can smell them on your breath.”
His teeth grazed my flesh, sending shivers down my spine.
“Weird… huh.”
3:30pm.
Roman nudged me.
“Fuck.” He hissed. “Is that Kaz?”
Following his gaze, I found the remnants of Kaz under a crushed desk starting to… convulse.
“Was he bitten?” I whispered.
Roman’s eyes were a strange color. “Maybe.”
3:35pm
“Mr Brighton.” I was on my knees, sobbing, shaking my physics teacher.
“Mr Brighton! Take us back!”
I squeezed his ice cold hand for dear life.
“Say, ‘stop’,” I whispered “Please!”
3:40pm.
The thing that found me didn't attack me. It sat there, head cocked, watching me roll around on the floor, the pain writhing through me. I watched its transformation in short bursts, consciousness swimming in and out.
When I found light again, the thing was sitting cross legged next to me, chewing on a human arm. Maybe I was hallucinating. I watched it for a long time, trying to figure out why it was wearing strips of Roman’s white shirt.
3:52pm.
No longer in the school, I was in the back of an ambulance, a lady screaming in my face. I could see the time on her watch. She told me I was going to be okay, and I think I was. But I wasn't sure how to tell her she smelled good.
Like chicken.
It's been three months since my teacher froze time.
Mr Brighton wasn't imprisoning us. He was protecting us.
I'm still alive, but I have to take regular shots. I think they're just in case I was infected by those things.
I asked Mom if the incident has been on the news, but there's no coverage.
According to the people in white who treated me, everything has been covered up. According to the Mayor, ten kids died in a gas leak.
No mention of the monstrous things hunting us down…
Our town is just a blip on the map. You can't find us. I wish you could, though.
I need help.
I'm terrified of myself.
I’m not going to tell Mom she smells like chicken, because she'll freak out.
Last night, someone, or something knocked on my window.
When I turned on the light, a single, bulging eye was staring at me through the glass.
I still don't know why it was crying.

So I had a pretty good route yesterday until the verrrry end which seems to be the norm for me. Last 7 stops are in the boonies, gravel roads, trailers or modular homes and my cell service is struggling. Unfortunately I forgot about downloading the maps (and I’m not even sure how to do this in the flex app) but anyway, I’m at the penultimate stop and the guy comes out the porch before I have a chance to take a pic. So that was rookie mistake number one. But I didn’t realize after I’d clicked “I’ve parked” it said “are you in the delivery area?” I mean I’m right at the house but I ignore it and then give the package to the guy. I get back to my car thinking that I can simply advance to the next screen and say yes it’s within the delivery area. Nope! It said “the homeowner needs to acknowledge they have the package” or something special like that. No prompt this time of “were you able to leave it in a non-standard location” like I got with others.
It literally won’t let me advance. Then I see my bars are down to nothing, so I dumbly switch to airplane mode that I’ll be able to get out of this. Nope! The app freezes and it takes forever for cell service to come back on. I have to drive down the road a bit to get some bars back. By the time the flex app refreshes it thinks I haven’t delivered the package AT ALL. I decided to deliver the last package on the same road which goes fine! But the app goes “you still have one more left” the same damn package I already delivered 10 mins before. I go back to the house and sit there trying to move through the prompts but for some reason with this house, it doesn’t recognize it being in the area. I can’t get chat support to come up because no bars, again. It’s like a dead zone. I’m sitting there for 5 minutes struggling in front of this dude’s house until he and his dad or whoever both wander out to my car “can we help youuuuuu?” I didn’t feel threatened but I didn’t feel welcome either. I told them Amazon thinks I haven’t delivered and he said oh yeah we got it, you can tell them that lol.
I finally had to drive away and attempt to get support on the actual phone to help me but they couldn’t friggin hear me because again no cell service. They keep asking me to park and attempt to deliver. They sent me a security code to my phone to confirm who I was but I kept telling them ugh I can’t access text or email because no bars… I am yelling at them that “I already finished my route” but they still can’t hear me. They said “disconnecting the call in 3… 2… “ The app just cycled and I was ready to be done with my route early and now I’m actually in danger of being late even though all packages have been delivered.
This is the second time the app has crapped out on me, one time because my iPhone got too hot in the car and now this time because of no cell service. I clearly followed the airplane mode advice wrong when it comes to the app telling me I’m not in the delivery area even after I’ve successfully delivered a package.
Can someone walk me through what to do when this map issue happens and/or you have no cell service suddenly in the middle of nowhere? (Besides down loading the map although that wasn’t the issue finding the place it was the app recognizing that I did my job).
In the end after I started home on the highway all bars came back and I got chat support to come up and mark my route complete (and even that I had to do twice because when I checked the app after “refreshing” it it still said “you’re going to be done delivering early”!).

Fire sale;
https://imgur.com/a/kVAOyD2
Unifi Switch Flex; $70
Unifi G4 Doorbell with one Unifi camera extra (includes ac adapter kit for doorbell); $80
Mikrotik Routerboard RB1100AHx4 Dude Edition 1100Dx4 4-cores, 1.4Ghz, 60Gb drive; $140
Mikrotik mANTBox 19s Sector Antenna 5GHz with 19dBi and Router Built in; $80
Mikrotik Audience (2); $60
crs112-8g-4s-in; $60
UISP Console (powered on once); $200
UBB; $240
Nano AP; $60
AC Mesh Pro; $60 (I think Secondary port is only working port)
Pluribus Networks Freedom F9532-C 32-port 40 / 100 Gb QSFP28 Switch ; $500
Tapo Camera; $40
Netgear R6400 / AC1750 wireless router; $20
Wyze Cams; $20 each
iPhone 13 Pro 1TB Unlocked (Includes Mag Charge Case and other items); $800
MacBook Pro Apple M1 Max / 64GB RAM / 2TB SSD; $1800
iPad Pro M1 12.9" 1TB Cellular; $800 (includes Apple portfolio keyboard)
Valve Index VR (Bought Secondhand, never even used it); $600
All items will be shipped for FREE through pirate ship.
Open to offers.
Need to pay for dogs surgery ASAP and need cash fast.
Thanks, check my history on here if need be.
More pics coming, sorry for formatting like this.
PayPal G&S will be begrudgingly accepted at worst case, but not preferred.

The Context:

A user posts a screenshot of the rainbow-colored icon for the latest watchOS update to /AppleWatch with the title “Why is there never a cool watch face, always pride”.
Accusations of homophobia and virtue signaling quickly fly as Redditors debate the meaning, intent, and ramifications of this multicolored tempest.

The Drama:

What’s the utility here?

We need less political/agenda driven watch faces, and more neutral, actually useful watch faces.

Lol what is political about who someone is attracted to?

I’m attracted to women. Where is my WW2 pinup poster option? If you don’t think that would sell then you’ve paid no attention to things like zippo lighters, playing cards, man cave decorations, bar decorations, and a whole lot of other stuff.
Where’s my silhouettes of bikini models?
Heck go right for the gusto with the cookies over the breasts lady from the Times Square ad that got taken down.

You want a prize for not having to deal with all the bullshit of being a non-straight/cisgendered person?
I’m glad Apple puts out these pride faces, just because it annoys people like you.

It’s ironic how you weirdos always cry about people calling you names, but then insist on calling normal people “cis” after being told repeatedly by the vast majority of the world population that we don’t want to be called “cis” and that it’s insulting.

[Continued:]

Cisgender isn’t an insulting term in the same way that transgender isn’t an insulting term.
Also, I’m not a weirdo.
A very small subset of the population has problems with the term cis, and it’s basically entirely transphobes. Do you have problems with the term heterosexual? Because it’s literally the same thing.

[…]

See, you're already proud of being straight cause it's normalized, nobody gives you sh*t for it. Lots of gays depending on where they're from may feel ashamed or wonder why they get so much backlash for their preferences. Yes, even today that's still frowned upon on certain parts of the world or even here in the States. As a straight person myself, it's really not that hard to understand as long as you have empathy or have seen first hand what some gay people go through.
That said, I think we have too many Pride faces, and Apple needs to make unique faces that actually do something like the "Count Up", "Chronograph", or "Solar" faces.

Nobody gives me shit for it? Go check out my negative down doots.
:-)
It’s badge of honor to be down-dooted in pursuit of more inclusive marketing by Apple!

You’re not getting downvoted for being straight and you know it dude. This is pathetic.

[…]

Them throwing themselves into it saying they don’t have rights and a ton of other nonsense.

This very post proves that they are not treated the same as the rest of the population.

oh? where are all the straight celebrating watch faces?

[…]

Can you name a political watch face currently available?

Snoopy.

Are people making a mountain out of a molehill?

New watch faces are being added with release of a new watchOS each year New Pride watch faces are being added a month before the Pride Month each year I don’t understand what your are moaning about Wanna “cool watch faces” go buy Samsung, they have piles of that crap

Just make a normal watch face instead of pandering lol

Sit on ice for a bit, because your are clearly butt hurt

Yup that’s me!

Is this virtue signaling?

Because virtue signaling is corporation's greatest achievement and must be nurtured over anything else

Right, so we're going to ignore all the money Apple has donated to LGBT orgs including directly from rainbow band purchases? Or should I move the goal post of what virtue signaling means.

Bro, this is marketing expenses that you can write off your taxes. It’s nothing for them. And they make even more money in return.
When they withdraw from countries where they kill gay people for being gay then we can talk about their values

You're ignoring the impact on the LGBT community it makes. I doubt there is any amount they could donate that would satisfy you since you don't see the impact, you just see the act of giving and criticize it because it doesn't conform to your values.
Apple is a company, not a person. Apple operating in the US doesn't mean it supported the war in Iraq. Apple products being on sale in Hong Kong doesn't mean it supports a free Hong Kong either. Companies don't have values, they are only an amalgamation of actions. Personifying corporations is buying marketing hook, line, and sinker.
Ironically you're virtue signaling pretty hard here yourself.

Exactly, companies have no values. Yes. They exist to make profit.
That’s why I don’t like when they act like they have values. Even more so when they have strong values, they promote those „values” and are very proud of themselves.
Just shut up and sell your iPhones

[Continued:]

It's like you're trying to play bigotry on hard mode.

Are u people capable of fighting an argument instead of a person? You are the second or third person that insult me for no reason smh. How tf am I a bigot? What did I say that triggered you so much?

Who is "u people"? I didn't insult you, I said you trying to play bigotry on hard mode. When did you playing a game become a insult? You didn't trigger me, but you appear to be pretty triggered yourself.

What did u even mean by that - "playing bigotry on hard mode"? Is this some idiom or saying I don't get?

[…]

I’m surprised that you’re not embarrassed to display yourself in public as being whiny and self-centered. The new face is a positive thing, but because it doesn’t affect you, it’s something to complain about. Not too self-centered is it?

Bigots are going to bigot.
Yes, because you are not self-centered for thinking that Apple gives a shit about you or LGBTQ community rights xD. They are doing it for you, for your values! They value you so much.
In Saudi Arabia they value Islam more tho, so they won’t celebrate pride month there, but they are totally supporting gay community, trust me bro. Genuinely.
Now pay more for the company that shares your values

Thanks for confirming just what an awful person you are.

Jesus, man, got to hell with your judgements and crying, really

Using Reddit’s “this user needs help “ feature is a dick move that moves their resources away from people who actually needed it. I’m not surprised that you made such a dick move

[Continued:]

I don’t know what you are talking about. I didn’t use any feature, didn’t even know such thing existed.
I don’t think you need help, you are just dumb

The good old “who me?” response.
Go away kid, you bother me.

XD you might need help after all.
Cya.

Is this pandering?

The pandering to any specific group by corporations is insufferable.

Watching adults cry over a pride watch face is insufferable.

lol - you've made 11 comments on this post alone.
You are the problem with PRIDE and why everything is so extreme.
Maybe disagree, and move on to the next topic - holy shit you are obsessed with spreading hate.

Are you brain damaged? You have to be

Whatever brain damage I may suffer from, you have it 10x worse.
Have a great day continuing to be miserable :)

[Continued:]

Have a good day crying over a pride watch face and being a braindead bigot.

The Flairs:

• “It's like you're trying to play bigotry on hard mode”
  
• “I don’t think you need help, you are just dumb”
  
• “Sit down and be quiet, idiot”
  

After a loved had taken a picture of me on their iPhone 13 I was repulsed, disgusted even.
I had dawned a athletic sprinter outfit on a walk with a loved one. I had worn this outfit beforehand and seen it in the mirror and was extremely infatuated .
But, on that day of the walk, when I had asked them to photograph me, it was nothing like what I saw in the mirror.
I have little to no physical insecurities besides my face. Im utterly horrified as to what people may see combined with my hair, face, eyes, and lips put together. The possibility of me staring at someone with a chance of me having a lazy eye, or a fluoride stare is sickening.
Just the thought of approaching anybody with that fills me with dread. Keep in mind this is coming from a person who thinks talking to strangers outside is fun, AND THATS THE THING!! I can't do that if I look like a oversaturated YouTube kids cartoon thumbnail with the sharpness bumped to the max dude! For chuck sakes- NO AVERAGE HUMAN IS GOING TO BE ABLE TO SEE EVEEY PORE AND DISCOLORATION ON YOUR FACE MAN!!
I take photos with a Samsung a04 and even a free phone and know to never use the cameras by themself, I always take them in the mirror and I kid you QUCKING NOT, it looked exactly like the imagery shown in real time. So I have some awareness of what I should at least know people are seeing from a glance right?
Well with that absolute cow manure of a camera it will make you think you look like a greasy individual in their mid 40's who is also probably not allowed anywhere near a school building.
For CHUCK SAKE MAN! NO AVERAGE PERSON SHOULD BE ABLE TO SEE THE GRAVEL PIT SOMEONE WOULD CALL A FACE COVERED IN THE WHAT WAS ONCE AND ALWAYS THEN SMALL UN NOTICABLE ACNE FRECKLES AND DISCOLORATION FROM 30 FEET AWAY FROM THE SCREEN PHONE SCREEN!! 👹👹👹👹
Anyway besides that what did we learn?
The iPhone 13's camera is repulsive and will send one of you guys and even the most confident of people into a existential crisis (I don't wanna say but this goes for some other cameras I have no experience with as well)
Filters and highly effected photos if unknowingly done could also cause a crisis (I have experience and really balanced knowledge in taking photos even though I rarely ever take them but still)
And 3?
I forgor 💀

I currently (40M) had my ex (35F) completely destroy our relationship while I was working out of town for a few months. This happened a year ago and wish I had these stories as a resource while going through it. I have just started to use Reddit and been reading the experiences of others here and have decided to share my story in hopes it will maybe help others. That way some good may come from some of the worst times of my life.
A little backstory for context for the story and insight to some of the decisions I made. When I turned 30 I left the major city in my Province (it is like a state if you are an American) because buying just a simple house is over a million dollars and I don't make near enough to afford that. My goal was to move to somewhere more rural to buy a house, meet someone, get married and have a child or two. It was my only dream I had and believed I could attain it. I lived out in the bush on my step dads property in a run down trailer I bought so I could save money for the first 3 years. I had my dog but the loneliness of living in the middle of nowhere had got to me. By then I had saved a fair amount of money, so I decided to move into the town. It was nice, it cut my commute down by 40 minutes, I had started to make a few friends and no longer felt so isolated. It was through my friends I met my future ex. Let's call her Kali. She had a long term boyfriend when we first met. Their relationship ended a couple of years after meeting her and we started dating a few months after.
We mostly had a great relationship for the next 4 years. The only thing was it was on again off again. She would dump me after I did anything really special for her for a week and beg me to take her back. It was like clockwork. I used to think it was because of her depression and that she didn't believe she deserved to be truly happy. Nowadays I actually think she might have been cheating the whole time and just felt guilty about it when I did nice stuff for her but I will never know the truth. I don't care what the reality is anymore anyway, Time has a funny way of making stuff like that irrelevant. We did have one bigger break of about 5 months. When it happened I took time off work to travel in my RV the whole time. From spring to summer. I really didn't like the town I lived in and decided to use that time to check out the rest of my Provence to figure out where I wanted to restart my life. She was basically the only reason I stayed for so long. I did have a decent job and family close by but most people I met there were not good people. Lots of drug users, liars, and general scumbags. I had only a few real friends there. After I got back and had decided where I was going to move to she had decided she wanted me back. She begged me to stay and be with her. She told me that she wanted to get serious. We started making real progress about getting married, having kids and looking at buying a house. Everything was coming up Milhouse and I couldn't be happier. So You can probably guess this is when my tale becomes interesting for you and life got real bad for me.
My career is seasonal. I work from spring to the end of fall and can go on unemployment insurance or find work. My dad had asked if I could help on his farm breeding horses that winter when I had still planned to leave my town. I had promised him that I would because it would give me a place to stay before people in my field of work would be looking for employees. This had been agreed upon before me and Kali had got back together. Now I have always been a man of my word. It's something I take great pride in. I have always hated liars. I don't mind a little embellishment to make a story more fun or if two people's stories are different as long as they both believe that was how the events happened. Everyone remembers things slightly off. She was upset that I had intended to keep my word to my dad but I had every second weekend off. The town my dad is in was only a 2 hour drive. So I told her I would be back twice monthly for weekends and that it would only be for 4 months. For the first two months everything seemed fine. During this time I started to look at rings to pop the question and booked an expensive spa for two days in May to propose. There was only one weird thing that happened during the first two months. On one of my visits she confided in me that her brother's wife had cheated on him and that their newborn baby was most likely not his. I was shocked that she not only knew but didn't plan to tell him. She said she didn't want to tell him for fear of breaking up the family. I told her that he has the right to know and that she was being a bad sister by knowing and not telling him. I also informed her if he found out she knew and didn't say anything that he would most likely kick her out of his life. She made me swear I wouldn't tell him. Even though I thought it was wrong I did agree to not say anything. It did get me wondering how she could not only not tell him but stay friends with someone that could do that to her brother. I think that's when I started to question her morals. The third month she asked that I didn't come out because she was "sick". I told her I didn't care, I could still come out and take care of her. She convinced me that she didn't want me to come so I just worked on the farm instead. I switched weekends so I could come out the next instead of in two weekends. The weekend she was "sick" her phone was off the whole time, lasting into the week. She told me her phone went through the washing machine. She was actually on a bender but I didn't learn that till later.
So I head out the following weekend. As soon as I arrive I start getting super sketchy vibes. I was already weirded out about the stuff with her brother and ghosting me for 4 days as we talked/texted multiple times a day normally. At first she acts great to me, cooks me steak and we go out to the bush to have a fire in the snow. At the fire she really started drinking heavily. She then mentions a guy she had been hanging with lets call him Brad. So alarm bells start going through my head. We go back to her house and she keeps drinking. I wanted to keep a clear head so I only had three beers all evening. She put her phone down unlocked because of how drunk she was and I took it to the bathroom with me to look up texts between them. I felt so guilty for doing it at first but once I see the text between the two of them the guilt is replaced with rage. I go to her room to confront her and she breaks down. First, how dare I go through her phone, this never would have happened if I would have broken my promise to my dad, nothing really happened between them, blah, blah, blah. I was furious and drove off. She blows up my phone the whole time. I don't answer. Ten minutes after I left her mother called me. She lives at her moms house. I took the call and her mom said she is freaking out and has harmed herself. I decide to go back and she has a bandage wrapped around her arm. Her mom hid all the sharp objects she could find. She was having a full on panic attack and begs me to not leave. I told her I would stay if she told me the truth. She admits to hooking up with him one time just that last weekend when she asked me not to come out. It kind of matches the messages and I believe her. I stay there till she falls asleep. Once she does I send Brad a text saying that she has a boyfriend with some screen shots of our conversations me and her have had that week. I was about to drive back to the farm when the dude called her phone. I pick up the call and tell him I am her boyfriend. He asks if that was a joke and I assure him it is not. He said he didn't know and actually apologized. I tell him that I'm pissed but if he didn't know I couldn't blame him. I should have asked him more questions but I was tired, not thinking straight and just wanted to go back to the Farm even though it was two am by this point. I get home and crash. Turned my ringer off because I know once she wakes up she will start calling like crazy. After getting the horses in for the night I decided to look at my phone for the first time all day. Around thirty missed calls and a ton of texts. I decide I need another day before I talk to her. Now while the whole day all I can think about is that it was just one time, she seems to be genuinely remorseful about it, how I'm 39 and really want children before I get too old. I took a call from her the next day on Sunday in the morning. She is still wasted. She hadn't stopped drinking since I was there Friday. We talk and I tell her that I am really upset but am willing to give us another chance. I still was in love with her and wanted to have kids, get married and buy a house with her. It was the dream I felt I worked so hard for. She was so happy I took her back and swore to me nothing like this would ever happen again. Basically I was a fool lol.
So I decided on my next set of days off to borrow my stepdads summer home on the river so we can have the place to ourselves. I grab food that she loves so I can cook her dinner and try to make it very romantic. I want to rekindle my love with her so I wanted to go all out on an amazing weekend. I pick her up and she is already a little drunk. I kind of wanted to hang sober but I don't wanna mess up with her so don't say anything thinking we can do a sober day when I take her out to go shopping and dinner the next day. When we get there she gets hammered. Kali had brought a big of bottle fireball on top of a bunch of white claws. I again didn't really drink that night. Once she was drunk and tired I carried her to the bed. As Kali is in my arms she looks up at me and says in slurred words "I don't know why you even felt threatened by Joe" I ask "what did you just say?". "I don't know why you even felt threatened by Brad" she replied. I put her to bed and my mind starts racing. Now her ex before me has a really close name to the one she said first but I also know she has a friend named Joe I only met a couple of times. They were not close or even hung out but were more like acquaintances. I go in her purse to look at her phone again but the battery is dead and I can't find her charger. I have an Iphone so I can't charge it up to look. I didn't sleep that well that night with everything going on in my head. I woke up at 6 am to her being very loud on the phone. I went out to the living room and she had drank all the booze left over from the night before. I ask her who she was on the phone with and she tells me an uber to leave. I ask why is she going to leave? Kali tells me she is upset that I tried to get into her phone. Guess I didn't put it back in her purse. Must have been out of sorts and forgot. I tell her I can drive her once I go to the washroom and get some clothes on. I go to do that, come out of the washroom to see Kali has already left. She was so drunk that she had left half her stuff behind. I decided to have breakfast before bringing her stuff to her house. After breakfast I packed her stuff into my SUV and noticed it had snowed that night. I could see her footprints out into the driveway. While Dropping off her stuff I noticed there were no footprints leading to her house, so I tried calling Kali. No answer. I left her stuff in the snow and decided to drive by her brothers and sisters house to see if there were footprints going into any of their houses but there were none. I sent her a nasty text about knowing she didn't go home, to go be with Brad or Joe or whoever and never call me again. It was a lot more profane than that but that's the gist of it. Cleaned up the house my stepdad lent me and back off to the farm yet again. The next day she blows up my phone and again I wait another day to talk to her. She tells me that she went home but I know that can't be true from the snow, but she says I must have been mistaken. She apologizes for getting drunk and leavening and that she is going to stop drinking after her birthday in two weeks. She has rented a hotel in the town I'm in for her birthday and wants to spend it with me. I agree just because I have to know the truth and want to look at her phone to make sure I am not crazy. She had gaslit me to the point I was questioning what I saw with my own eyes. A couple of days later I decided to send Joe a message on Facebook to see if he would give me the truth. I get a text from her telling me not to bug her friend and that she is embarrassed. I apologize and tell her I am excited about her birthday soon.
The weekend of her birthday comes so I go to meet her at the hotel. She brought her sister and other friend along. It actually is a really fun time. The girls did coke the first night into the second evening. I don't really like it but I figured she can let loose especially if she is going to stop drinking after her birthday. I also knew by Saturday night that they would all crash hard so it would give me time to look at her phone so I could know the truth. As I mentioned the weekend was really fun so I felt bad about going into her phone yet again. I did it anyway and my whole world came crashing down. Now I figured that I would maybe see Brad or Joe texts and Facebook messages. Seemed like Brad was done but Joe and her were totally hooking up. I also found out that she had slept with 3 other guys. I also saw she was using coke all the time now. She did it maybe three times a year when we dated but now it was every weekend. It looked like she started using regularly right before I left for the farm. Joe helped get it for her too, out of all the guys he was the one she hung with the most. Turns out he was also a meth head who was trying to quit for her. She also went to his house the morning she left the other weekend to hook up and buy coke. I was floored. I just staired and took screen shots till the early morning. I decided I wasn't just going to dump her but I wanted to ruin her life not realizing she was already doing that all by herself but hindsight is 20 20. So I started coming up with a plan of what I was going to do. I woke up the next morning and acted like everything was fine and went back to the farm. I was still so upset and didn't want to harm myself or others so had a family friend take my firearms for a while. I don't think I would have used them on myself or others but I knew I wasn't thinking clearly and didn't want them in my house while I was like that.
I didn't have to see her till I moved back because the next set I had off I had tickets for a concert in the city I used to live in. During that time all I thought about was how I was going to do something to ruin her life. I came up with some small things but my main plan was to pretend like we were fine and ghost her when my contract was up with my boss next winter. I had promised him another year after kali and I had gotten back together. Just typing it out makes me look back and cringe that I was so crazy. When I went to the city for the concert I told my best friend, my brother and a few others my plan. No one liked it and thought I should just go no contact, cut her straight out of my life. That probably was the smart thing to do but emotion was clouding my judgement. Also you all would get this story. They even informed me that because I would be lying to her, that I would be compromising my morals and turning into a worse person they didn't recognize. I either didn't see it that way or care. I have a hard time recalling what my brain was thinking during that time. All seems like a haze now that it's been a year. I think I was really upset that my dream and all I had worked for was ruined. A friend later said I may have been in love with the dream and not her. Maybe that's the reason I kept up all this insanity.
My time on the farm had come to an end and I was moving back to the town me and my ex lived in. I was set with my plan, excited to implement it and have what I considered just. But you know what they say of the best laid plans. My ex wanted to go to hang at her brothers as a welcome home party. I went but ended up drinking. Heavily drinking, to the point of black out. I don't remember much from that night but have had it recounted for me. I woke up in the drunk tank. Guess I couldn't lie and play it cool then huh? The story I was told later is, while at her brothers I had gotten drunk and loud. Kept waking up the new baby and we were asked to leave. So we caught a cab and I confronted her in the cab but all I could do was call her a lying, cheating, whore on repeat. She got upset and ran into the house locking me out. I had a bunch of my stuff in her house so I went to the door and demanded she let me in. All the while still only referring to her as the aforementioned 3 words. She told me to leave but my jacket and wallet were inside. It was below freezing at night still and probably wouldn't have made it home in the state I was in. I then kicked in her door to keep calling her LCW and grab my stuff. She was on the phone to the police, so I was taken away by them. One of the lowest points in my life. It still brings me so much shame to this day but it is what happened and I am not going to sugar coat it. I never laid a finger on her and I am so happy that I hadn't. Laying hands on women in that way is one of the scummiest things a man can do. I had to go back to her house once they let me out because my stuff was still there. I apologized to her mom who had been at her boyfriends that evening promising to repair the door for her. Kali begged me to talk to her and like an idiot I didn't just leave. I told her I saw everything and she only admitted to Brad and Joe. Lying about them and the others the whole time. Even when I brought up the screen shots she still couldn't come clean. I left just shaking my head. There is still a ton to this story but this is long enough. I could do a part 2 if there is interest. Catching you folks up to where I am now and the messed up things that happened in between.