#AND HONESTLY RIGHT ABOUT NOW I'M RECONSIDERING DOING IT AGAIN BECAUSE SOCIALIZING IS A FUCKING NIGHTMARE (THIS IS NOT ABOUT YOU)

[dothemindything]

MATESPRITSHIP ON ALTERNIA ISN’T THE SAME AS IT’S PLAYED IN THE BUBBLES. YOU DIDN’T REALLY GO ON DATES, IT WAS JUST KIND OF SOME BULLSHIT PREAMBLE TO THE FUCK OR DIE PREMISE WE ALL LIVED UNDER. ROMANCE WAS FOR THE MOVIES. IF YOU GOT LUCKY ENOUGH TO TRUST SOMEBODY THAT MUCH IN REAL LIFE, YOU’D STILL PROBABLY AVOID KEEPING THEM TOO NEAR IN CASE YOU ATTRACTED TROUBLE. IT WAS COMPLICATED.

BUT IT DOESN’T REALLY MEAN ANYTHING FOR MY OWN SITUATION. I KEPT FOOD BECAUSE I WAS AFFILIATED WITH A LOT OF PEOPLE WHO LIKED TO EAT, AND I’D ALREADY SHED MY BAGGAGE ON A VERY LONG ROADTRIP THROUGH THE VOID, SO I WAS SINCERELY JUST STOCKING FOR HOSPITALITY PURPOSES. EVEN IF ENCOUNTERS WERE RARE.

I JUST LIKED THE HABIT.

so what, you didnt even have dinner dates with your matesprits or whatever? also, wait. wouldnt that make it even weirder for you to randomly have food at your apartment for guests, if eating outside of your own place had all that baggage????

[seeker-ophelia]

I agree with a lot of your points. I’m glad we know how much of a dumpster fire development was because this game hurts. Both good and bad. I obviously don’t know but some of the writing does feel like damage control, things aren’t mentioned but they’re also not denied. Isabella could still be with Hawke and just not have mentioned it. Awkward for sure but still possible. Combined with the DLC statement (tho I hope with the sales and reception EA will reconsider) I think they just wanted to get this out the door before EA full on canceled the game. It does suck, I’m not in denial about that. I want all those cameos and spotlights, (hell where is my girl Merrill? She FIXED a mirror on her own, there’s gotta be something there right?) but I’m hopeful for the next game.

Do you think there will be one? Do you think we’ll get DLC? I don’t think I can take another ten years of this.

Oh an ask! Hi!

I really do think that this game was BioWare fighting against EA, and EA's influence runs heavy through this game. I am so glad this is not a MMORPG or adjacent kinda game.

Do I think we'll get a DLC? Honestly? No. Not unless VG does very very well in sales (i haven't looked at the numbers and don't know what their projections were), and people constantly keep the hype up on social media. I would FROTH AT THE MOUTH to get a 'Keep' DLC, with none of the side quests actually having an impact on the main story, but we get to see & help out our old friends. A DLC where we learn more about the lore and history of the veil and spirits. If I am a new player to the DA franchise in this game, I feel the need to keep the veil up. Its spoken about ad nauseum. But, if you've played Inquisition, you know that its actually the veil that turns spirits to demons (Solas/Cole banter). Yes, there are some demons in the fade, but not as many as the game leads you to believe.

I'm rambling. Do I think we'll get a new game? they certainly set it up that way. I'm not on twitter but apparently devs have said there is plans for it. will it take 10 years? I fucking hope not. Hopefully development on 5 is more streamlined. Keep it an offline RPG. Not pass it through so many hands. Let BioWare cook with it. Let the community council pick apart the lore. But most importantly, is Corrine and Trick need to still care. Caring about something is what makes it great. And if they're burnt out or overworked or have to fight with EA, that's gunna show up in the game.

The scariest thing about Veilguard, for me, is that it didn't suck. I think its a good game in its own right. But its not a DRAGON AGE game. I'm hoping that this is because Trick wanted to make it his own, move away from Gaiders influence, and that they'll listen to fans and make the next game more adult, darker. Meaner (no, killing a dog doesn't make it mean, its just feels like a D&D/GoT way to SuBvErT ExPeCtaTiOns). This is a very esteemed franchise, and VG did drop the ball. Maybe not drop, but, rolled it over somewhere else? In a different direction. Which, again, isn't bad. Its just not Dragon Age.

When we heard about "the three choices" controversy, I posted something, i wonder if I can find it hang on. Bam got it.

The thing is, the Devs HAVE TO. HAVE TO. Care about the game. They have to put their blood sweat and tears into these games to make them fantastic. And I think, right now, they're probably tired. They need a break. And I don't want to rush them into anything, because shit is better if you let them have the time to cook it.

But Fuck I hope we get another Game. I hope the Twitter Trolls and the Youtube Bigots and the Money Grubbing EA Executives stay the fuck out of my Fantasy Dragon Game.

In the meantime, I'm gunna fucking INHALE all the new lore in this game, spoonfed or not, and hopefully we'll get another comic or book before the next game.

[tellywoodtrash]

hi TT! can I ask you for some advice? I'm a teenager who is really insecure about how i look. i don't really think there's anything wrong with my appearance per se, but everyone around me does. my dad keeps recommending me fairness creams (even though he is dark skinned himself) and my mom keeps telling me to lose weight (even though she is fat too). i have been dealing with some health issues for the past couple years that have led to a LOT of weight gain. i now have stretch marks all over my body and my friends always comment on it and make fun of me for them. it makes me wanna never show even an inch of skin again. what do I do?

Hello love,

First of all, big hugs. 🤗🤗🤗 People (who are supposed to love you regardless of how you look) are being shitty to you and you absolutely do not deserve that crap. I'm here to tell you they're wrong. You are good the way you have been, are right now, and however you will be in the future.

i don't really think there's anything wrong with my appearance per se, but everyone around me does.

I'm glad you have accepted the way you look. You realise that the problem is with the people around you. Good. That's a massive step 1 already sorted. Because so often, we start believing what people tell us, and it becomes the "truth", when it's absolutely not.

Tbh, I'm a rudeass bitch and I'd let off verbal zingers at everyone, including parents. idgaf about politeness when someone's coming for me like that. But perhaps you're a much better person than me, lol. So maybe when your dad tries to push fairness creams on you, you just reply with a curt but polite "No, thank you!" and end the conversation right there. Walk away. With your mom and the weight loss, ask her if she's willing to take on a "get healthy plan" with you, where you both eat better and exercise TOGETHER. If she's unwilling, then ask her why she has expectations of you that she's not willing to subscribe to personally. Again, walk away. Don't let them think they can just say these things to you and you'll sit and listen like a good bachcha. And boy oh boy, your friends. To them, I say be straight up rude. Like, call them out. Say "What makes you think you can talk to me like this about my body? Why are you so obsessed with the way I look? How does this affect your life in any way????" coz literallyyyyyy; friendship doesn't mean a free pass to talk any shit, that too such superficial garbage. Everyone's body has something or the other wrong with it. EVERYONE. (Another thing almost everyone has???? Stretch marks. I've had them since fucking puberty, still do in my 30s. They're as much a natural part of your body as body hair.) That is just the nature of the flesh prison we reside in. This is just a pile of fucking electrified meat that holds our brain and soul, which is what really matter. To have someone who calls themselves a FRIEND talk to you unkindly like this should make them ashamed, and honestly, make you reconsider if you even wanna be friends with that person if this is how they choose to behave.

This is the outside stuff. Now for the inside stuff - the internal work you do. First, make sure you watch and subscribe to media of people who look like you, and make you feel "hey, they look just like me and they're so pretty, so that means *I'm* beautiful they way i am too!" I'm telling you as someone who grew up in the pre-social media age; I had zero representation of ppl with my body shape/size and hair texture. It wrecked my self esteem. I spent hours poring over magazines and looking at airbrushed models thinking "why don't i look like that too????" even though I KNEW they were digitally altered images. It just got into my head SO MUCH. One good thing about social media being in the hands of EVERYONE is the ability to see such a range of people from all over the world, looking amazing in their own ways. Follow a diverse looking set of people and see the beauty in them, and thus yourself. Second, do some minor work to alleviate your health issues if you can. Be regular with your meds if you take any, do some daily movement to the extent you can, eat mostly healthy and stay hydrated well, etc. It won't change the way you LOOK, but it will make you FEEL better about your body, and how you are doing your part in taking care of it like it needs. Third, only if you choose to, feel free to beautify the flesh prison as you see fit. Wear whatever you like. Colour your hair. Get a piercing or tattoo. (Obv. wait till you're a legal adult!!!!!! Also, never get names of people or something that is just a ~~phase or trend you're into at the time. Aesthetics come and go. Body modifications like these are forever. Choose wisely. Very very prudently.) Do things that make you feel like "this is MY BODY, and *I* GET TO CHOOSE what kind of pretty it is". Take agency and make your choices and be proud in them, and fuck literally everyone else's opinion. They're LOOKS. The least interesting thing about you. They don't matter in the larger scheme of things, and they'll keep changing as you go through life. Just do whatever makes you feel good to be in this body at the time!!!!!!!!

I love you lots baby sibling. 👩🏽‍🧒🏾👩🏽‍🧒🏾👩🏽‍🧒🏾💗💗💗💗 I am threatening everyone shitty around you with angry laser eyes as I protectively wrap an arm around you.

[apostatehamster]

the saga continues

Lengthy word vomit, beware

So since the last time complaining I sent out some applications. Not many, mind you becaus eI could not physically get myself to apply to the most the shit that's being offered around me. Most Graphic artist stuff I find is Marketing, and I am absolute shit at selling stuff and would rather shoot myself in the head than deal with social media 24/7 at my job. I hate Marketing. So Since then I sent out 5 Applications.

One was a company my friend works at, he even set up an referral link for me on the application online portal. I was sooo cocksure back then that I could do this, still. It was a company where a friend is working, I even had a referral, and it was an activity that sounded amazing and the benefits would have been amazing.

Well after a month they wrote me back with a resounding no.

Circling between depression and petulance, I scrounged up 10 more job offers but only got myself to apply for the 4 most promising ones.

Well two declined, one is still pending but I have zero hopes in that one tbh and one company actually invited me to an online job interview! Cool progress!

But this company has a funny story. So, our grpahic team has been reduced from 7 to 2 people (me and my bff here), but also some other people from videoproduction got axed. So this company kind of works in the same field as ours and two of our ex colleagues (one from my team) now work there, which is how I found out about them. My ex team mate kind of vouched for me, which is why I guess I got an interview in the first place. Gotta use the few connections I have ig. But anyway another ex team mate also applied, and since they are searching for two more people, we were joking around: haha what if we both get accepted and then we'll become a team again.

But here's the thing. We had our job interview the same day. The people there said, if they choose to continue, we would be called in to a second interview round.

She got an invitation for next week. I didn't. Maybe it's still coming but I honestly don't think so.

And while I am hoping she gets this job, because she actually needs a job while i still have one and am searching to change, it still stings. I was her senior in our team, and she has 1 1/2 years of experience while I have 9.

Logically I know 5 applications are a big bag of nothing, but these fucking measly 5 took everything out of me already. I'm scraping the bottom of my energy reservoir, it's affecting my mood so badly I ended up in an artblock (although im slowly recovering there i think, since i actively stopped searching for jobs)

I wanted to get away from my current company because the way they handled shit and the consequences of it left me hollow and depressed, looking at the emptiness of our office and listening to their resounding silence about what they've done. But right now the search and rejection is even more draining than the simply staying. I will not stop searching completely, but I am at least reconsidering the urgency. I do have a stable job, which unfortunately I really fucking enjoy doing. A lot!!!! The surroundings just suck big time. But I shouldn't be hasty in grabbing the next best (or not not best) thing out of spite, to leave.

At least my colleague is still there, and bless his heart, i couldn't do this without him. So far he hasnt been applying to jobs himself, I think he is just weary as well, and isn't that sad....

Bottom line of this, I am exhausted and my self esteem is in the minus area. I'm used to people picking others over me in the romantic sense or just social sense, I could at least pride myself on being good at what I do, being a somewhat functioning thing. But now even in the job sense, people picking others over me when I know I have more expertise, makes me wonder what the fuck I am even doing.

Soldiering on I guess.

//Side note, i do have friends reassuring me that I am skilled and companies are stupid for not seeing this and yadda yadda, I heard it all. Does not change the fact that I am not good enough in their eyes, so please do not see this as a cry for affirmation. I know the job market is rough and weird sometimes, but it's a downer nonetheless

everything’s so emotionally draining man, auuugh

Keep reading

[yukipri]

Hi, I'm really sorry about what happenned with your art and that fic in spanish but I'm here to play devil's advocate: You see, that cove was a gift from one of her readers and she didn't know it was yours so accepted it gladly, now that she knows of course she's going to take it down, but the way people treated was not right, it was uncalled for and even if they didn't know the whole story didn't have to vent their hate. What I'm trying to say is please don't spread hate if there's another way.

I will make one post on this on Tumblr. All other asks pertaining to it will be redirected to this post.

I have been in contact with the author, and we’ve more or less resolved the issue. While I am grateful for the support, I am severely disappointed in my followers who were disrespectful to her, and it upsets me greatly that they would say such cruel things to her. I have apologized to the author personally on their behalf. In all posts that I have made regarding the issue, I have always specifically asked that all interactions with her (and any other past offenders) be respectful (here, and here).

Was it naive of me to assume that people would do as I asked and only contact her gently? Yes it was, I recognize that as my fault, and I’ve apologized for it. And perhaps yes, I have been getting “too” vocal in venting my frustrations on my social media accounts. Yes, they are personal accounts, but also yes, I need to be more conscious of the fact that my voice can reach quite a few people here who may not be respectful and may just propagate the hurt. That is something I’ve reflected on.

At the same time, please understand that this is me after my snapping point. After multiple other snapping points. Did I, once upon a time, keep my hurt bottled up and contact people directly in private? Yes, of course, many, many times. What did I usually get in return? Usually a bunch of lectures, “fuck you”s, and “everyone does it and no one cares.” In other words, usually very ineffective. It is much harder to reel back venting rage, when it is the result of having been pushed too far too many times in the first place. Should I be responsible for doing it anyway? Sure, you may feel so. But I am also only human, and a snapping point is called that for a reason.

Plus I genuinely feel that more people respectfully (keyword!) asking for something to be taken down shows a community that does not tolerate art theft, which can have much more impact than a lone whiny artist who is easy enough to brush off. Especially if that contact can be done in their native language. So thank you, thank you so, so much for those of you who did contact her respectfully on my behalf.

What will I do in the future? Depending on the offense, I will try not to mention the exact community/blog committing the offense until I’ve tried to resolve it myself. If I do mention them publicly, I will emphasize, AGAIN and to a greater extent, the need for respect. Me saying “fuck them,” in anger on my own blog is very different from saying it to their face; don’t do the latter.

If you would like to view my public exchange with the author to decide for yourself whether I handled it with respect, screenshots of our public conversation beneath cut.

The entire conversation is on Twitter, but I’ve blotted out her username so people aren’t tempted to send her rude messages, as one of her followers did to me. This is for proof of communication only, it’s over, PLEASE DO NOT BOTHER HER.

The following is me just venting. To be perfectly honest, while I consider this issue resolved, I am still hurt and upset. I am not angry at the author and do understand how hard it is to admit where you may have been wrong especially if you feel justified *raises hand*. This may also heavily be language/culture difference struggles.

But here’s honestly how I feel at the moment, as vented on Twitter: “…why do i feel like the author didn’t understand most of my messages. The point was, “Even if i my followers treating you rudely is not my fault entirely, I will still apologize because i recognize the part my rage had in their response. Likewise, I recognize that you personally did not steal the art and it was a gift. HOWEVER, I still feel that you are partially responsible for using it and an apology of good will would be nice bc this is feeling incredibly unequal, and I’d like a statement that you will also speak to your fans about not stealing art, as I will speak to mine about not being rude.” Is what I was hoping for. Instead I kinda feel like, “lol it’s ok it’s over now let’s put Drama behind,” painting the author as the sole victim, and all I ended up doing was apologizing when all I wanted was a damn “I’m sorry,” from someone.”

Just because it was a gift does not excuse it as art theft, just because they were hurt does not excuse them from recognizing mine. I still feel disgusting after this, and am heavily reconsidering how I will post art in the future.

[canyouhearthechurchbellsringing]

#41: As Close to the Truth About Ali as I'm Going to Get

01/28/17

     FTP: I was actually just rereading entry #7 again before I sat down to upload this one. As I have repeatedly expressed from the start, the original entries do not accurately depict the events they portrayed. Honestly I’m more embarassed I let myself fall into the trap Darek set for me. It seems things have been… reversed, in a sense, now… but you’ll understand once it is all up.

08/28/16

           I’m typing this up at the library and saving it to a flash drive I’ll be carrying with me. It’s a half-hour walk here in the hot Florida sun, so I don’t know how often I can work on it, but at least I’ll have the records again. And if I can’t easily write, Darek can’t easily edit. Unfortunately that hasn’t stopped him from screwing with my head. If nothing else, I will be able to record the basics of what I go through as I struggle to discover what has happened these past few months. Once I’m more situated with better web access, I can proceed to flesh out the notes I’ve taken into complete entries. Writing has always been a helpful tool to sort out my mind, especially in times of duress like this where I desperately need to focus on priorities.

08/24/16           

           I remembered the doorway.

           The memories were not malleable. They existed in the peripheral, and vanished when put into focus. Still, its significance acted as a magnetic attraction of sorts, such that it filled me with desire. Secrets, answers, rationalizations for the reason I was so crazy, things inside my mind hidden from itself, all existed beyond the doorway. I’d been there, maybe, but I just couldn’t remember anything behind that damn door.

           Then hands reached down and yanked me from my slumber. I jerked into my body haphazardly, in a state of nothing but sensations. Darkness veiled my eyes, a blanket smothered my body, and a distant hum tickled my ears, suggesting electrical appliances. For a moment I felt as though this was the Outer Layer and I was finally beyond the door. First impressions are everything, and let’s just say this one felt to me like another one of Darek’s nightmares-constricted, deprived of sight and sound in a hellish, pressing heat.

           I groaned, surprised at how raspy my voice sounded. At least it broke the trance of the whirring appliances; I could hear just fine. I could also feel my body, reassuring me that this was not a dream. I felt liquid pouring from my pores en masse. I wasn’t just sweaty; I was soaked. I tried to uncurl my body from the cocoon of blankets that weighed me down mightily. The effort was in vain. They denied me freedom, all tied and twisted in one another. I reconsidered my suspicion that this was a lucid nightmare, but something in me whispered the idea away. It wasn’t Darek’s voice. It could have been. He can imitate anyone’s voice where he is, be anything my mind can perceive. And as I’m thinking all this and growing paranoid, I’m hyper-aware of the bead of sweat trickling down my left cheek. I let out an exasperated exhale and found it bounced back into my chin. I groaned.

           I focused on myself meditatively. I took stock of each of my arms’ positions, bent at the elbow, across my chest. I tried sliding an arm upwards toward my head. It met no resistance. I smiled to myself in the dark. It was a human-sized Chinese finger trap. My hand slid up my throat, over my shoulder, and came fully free, snaking up the right side of my head.

           From there it was a simple matter of freeing myself from the trap, feeling along the seams and separating the ungodly amount of blankets carefully and calmly. By that time, of course, my panic had fled and my eyes had adjusted to the dark a bit. I seemed to be in a small room with a bed and some decorative furniture. On my left was an A/C unit which had been the source of the electrical buzzing. I immediately lowered the temperature several degrees. On my right I discovered a bedside table with a lamp on it. Illuminating the room, I saw for the first time a TV across from the bed and a small kitchen area in the back. I was a long way from home.

           This is where things got interesting. Beside this lamp I found an index card with writing on it. WELCOME TO YOUR NEW HOUSE. On the lined side, a second message: PREPARE TO HEAR FROM AN OLD FRIEND HAHAHAHAHAHA. In the center of that he had added half a set of coordinates.

WEST 80 16  11.4954

           The illusion of the nightmare fell upon me again, harder, as my grasp on reality unraveled. Harder and harder it became to fight off the cloying certainty that this was nothing but a dream, another hallucinatory delusion where I made my home, but it was too visceral. The canonity of it stood stalwart against my hopeful barrage.

           I didn’t know what happened in the past few months, wasn’t sure ho much time had been taken from me, but I was able to grasp that I had been yanked out of my home and removed from everything familiar by an ambiguous, intimidating being living in a realm beyond imagination. I stepped out of the motel room. It was no paradise but at least it had cable. Looking down on the street below, I gathered myself. Occasionally, a car would drive by, breaking the silence of the night. My mind latched onto the sound of the cars passing, seeking peace in disorder.

           I didn’t know what had happened. I didn’t know what was going to come. I knew I needed to do anything I could, talk to everyone I knew, to figure out what Darek did in the past six or so months. However, it looked like it was the dead of night at the moment, and I did not want to start this journey at three in the morning. Aside from that, I was strangely drained in spite of the bizarre circumstances I found myself in. It felt like I had been awake for a couple days. For all I knew my body had been. I reentered my room after a short period and delved into a dreamless sleep.

           The first thing I did upon waking, finding the sun fully risen, was take an inventory of what I had. There were suitcases full of clothes in the corner. The fridge was stocked with plenty of food. There were even a few fantasy novels stacked on the toilet. Darek’s little note sat mocking me on the table. Beside it I had placed the contents of my pocket. This amounted to a wallet and a phone, both of which I did not recognize, as well as thirty six cents (one quarter, one dime, and one penny).

           The wallet contained my driver’s license, my college ID (long-since unused and ripe with the scuffs of age), an EBT food stamps card (explaining the stocked fridge), a library card, and six one-dollar bills. I checked the license and it listed my parents’ old address despite looking brand-new. It was replaced during my fugue but held no pertinent info on where I had been or what Darek had done.The wallet looked ratty and worn out. There were a few tears along the edges; nothing else about it struck me as relevant or unusual.

           The phone was one of those cheap-looking Verizon phones. It had 266.04 minutes on it and 368 service days left on it. The background was a plain black screen After unlocking the screen I immediately checked my contacts list. I recognized Casey’s number right away nder the name “Stupid Fucking Bitch”; Darek clearly wasn’t fond of her. I tried calling but the number was out of service. There were several names and numbers I did not recognize, such as “J” and “Mike Herb”. If I had to hazard a guess, I’d say they were drug connects. The only other numbers in the phone that drew my attention were one marked “Baby” (Darek had a girlfriend?) and a weird string of numbers that couldn’t be a local phone number saved under “K” (2622946016). Aside from the contacts, the storage on the device contained default images and ringtones. I also discovered an installed Twitter app. Darek had apparently made an account in my name on July 27th. I made a few posts but I suspect he has his own plans for it, so I don’t intend to use it for conventional social interaction. The phone didn’t have any of my family members’ numbers or any others I recognized. I was wary about using any of the contacts I didn’t personally know to hunt down information. I would save it as a last resort. From the calendar I learned it was the twenty-fourth of August. A solid half a year had gone by in the blink of an eye.

           I had to take a walk after learning that to clear my head. The whole time Darek was humming a song I recognized from the radio by Bob Seger. Maybe just because it was Darek it really unsettled me. Maybe it was everything else on top of it. Whatever the root of my jumpiness, I nearly leapt out of my skin when my phone started ringing in my pocket. Of course the ringtone was the same song. I pulled it out of my pocket. The caller ID said “Baby.” Warily, I pressed the green button.

           "Hello?“

           "Hey babe. How are you?”

           A couple of things happened simultaneously. Shocked by the voice on the other end, I let the phone slip right out of my hand. As that was going on, Darek started laughing. I guess he found some humor in my reaction. I honestly did not expect to hear the voice of a dead girl on the line.

           Distantly, in the background, her voice echoed from the phone. “Hello? Are you okay?” Numbly, I groped for the device, my universe turned upside down.

           "This can’t be real.“ I whispered. “You can’t be real.”

           Confused herself, she responded. “What are you talking about Darek?” Hearing that, his laughter only grew in intensity. I was stunned into silence for a moment. Finally, my mouth remembered how to form syllables and I spoke.

           "What did you just call me?“

           Cautious and confused, she responded. "Darek? Oh…. oh. Oh God. Mat, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know—”

           "What?“ I snapped. "Didn’t know I wasn’t your boyfriend? Well I didn’t know you were even alive, so whatever!”

           "What are you talking about?“

           The memory rose, vague and fuzzy. It seemed everything from before that lengthy slumber was hazy and unclear. Still, the rush of wind, the blaring horn, the stark cold terror came as easily as an old friend. "My logs?” I managed weakly. “The third or fourth one where I pushed you in front of a moving vehicle…”

           Darek’s laughter had subsided, but that comment brought it back on in the distant recesses of my head, a light snicker at some humor I couldn’t perceive through my grand confusion.

           "You mean Halloween?“ Ali said, understanding dawning in her tone. "When we had that huge fight and stopped talking… I thought you’d never want to see me again… then Darek started talking to me online, and it was kind of like having my best friend back.”

           "Sounded to me like the two of you were a little more than best friends.“

           Vividly, clearly, I relived that fateful night again. This time, as I screamed at Ali, I saw her burst into tears, turn, and run off down the sidewalk. The truck passed by, the wind picking up my hair. Nobody died. Nothing else happened. Memory troubles? Darek cooed from my subconscious. Ain’t that a pain?

           "Look,” Ali began unsteadily, “I was really lonely and he was there for me. It just sort of… happened. It was as natural as breathing.”

           Silence followed. A gnawing question beat at my mental processes as I tried to digest the situation. “Were you in love with him?” I finally asked.

           She paused, considering her answer. “Mat… I am in love with him. And you. I love every part of you.” The hot Florida sun beat down overhead as I walked down the street. It all seemed unreal. Here was a girl I thought was dead telling me she was in love with someone who didn’t technically exist. Here was a girl I thought was dead who was now my only hint as to what happened over the past several months. It was too much to take.

           "No.“ I managed numbly. "Do not do this to me. No, not you, please. Ali, anyone but you.”

           "I’m sorry!“ She cried. "I’m so sorry!”

           "That doesn’t change a thing. Everyone’s sorry.“ And it was true. In fact it was something Darek was fond of saying. If human beings were any one thing, it was certainly sorry. The whole lot of them were a sorry excuse for living things.

           "So…” she paused, searching for the right words. “Is our relationship over now?”

           "As far as I’m concerned,“ I answered coldly, "it never started.” Part of me was happy to know she was alive. But mostly I just knew that I didn’t want her to have any misconceptions about my feelings. I had to be cold and direct. Her silence still made me feel guilty and wicked. I could sense Darek basking in the dark emotions dancing around my head.

           "Look, I just—” I began.

           She cut me off before I could explain. “It’s okay! He told me from day one that it was only a temporary arrangement.”

           The defeated way she said that made me feel like, despite it, she hoped it would have been permanent. “I just… I’m sorry.” There. I said it. “A chunk of my life is missing and I’m desperate to fill it. To understand. Why am I in some random motel? How?”

           "I can help you.“ She answered. “But only in the ways he permitted.”

           "Oh God.“ I couldn’t help it. "The psycho you fell in love with gave you rules?”

           "… don’t make it sound like that.“

           I sighed. Any information was better than none. "What CAN you tell me?”

           "I have logs.“ She said. "They’re on a flash drive. He told me to send them to you when you… woke up. Supposedly they’re accounts of your time on the Outer Layer.”

           The Outer Layer again. Of course. I wasn’t nowhere while Darek was wreaking havoc with my body. I must have been spending my time in the place beyond the doorway. This was the first bit of good news I’d had since waking up and I was eager to pursue it.

           "When can you get them to me?“

           "Someone’s excited.”

           I almost laughed at that. Almost. “Try desperate and confused.”

           That elicited a giggle from her end of the line.  Between the burning sun and the warm phone against my ear, I was starting to feel pretty hot. Noticing a clump of trees, I proceeded to stop and sit in the shade to cool off a bit.

           "Okay, look,“ she said, "I’ll send you what I have ASAP. I’ll send it via eMail. You still have that gMail account, right? Just… sit tight.”

           I was already doing that, so it didn’t seem like an impossible request. On a whim, I decided to ask another question. “I don’t suppose you know anything else about my life in the past several months, do you?”

           "Sorry,“ she answered lamely. "When I saw you, I had, um… other things on my mind…”

           I shuddered to think what she could be referring to. “It’s… okay.”

           "You sure?“

           I wasn’t. "As okay as it’s going to get. Thanks, Ali.”

           "If you need anything…“

           "I know.” I hung up and lay back in the grass as cars zoomed by and the world continued to turn. I had a sneaking suspicion this was not the last of Darek’s little surprises. I did not look forward to finding more startling truths out, but I knew I couldn’t just let time waste away. I had a lot of work to do if I wanted any semblance of a normal life back.

           I began my trek again in time. Thoughts tumbled around discordantly between Darek and Ali and myself. He played the voices that weren’t my own.

           I am in love with him. And you. I love every part of you.

           No, Ali, please, don’t do this to me. Anyone but you.

           It’s okay! He told me from day one it was only a temporary arrangement…

           A few incessant loops of that and I found myself at the library. I already had a card so it was a simple matter to make a computer reservation. Immediately upon accessing a library computer, I looked up gMail.

           I tried to open gMail up, but, for whatever reason, the library internet insisted it was inapporriate for a public setting. That just pissed me off. I left the library angry and sick, not looking forward to a long and thought-laden walk home.