#and I miss my dreamworld so badly

[elliott-the-creature]

you ever have a dream that is so visceral and feels so real that when you wake up you have a derealization episode and start having thoughts related to your dream where you feel like you’re missing something and you need to go back to your dream because that’s your reality and your waking world is actually a dream?

uh, cuz that’s us rn and it really sucks

-??? (I have no idea who’s here rn because brain is being scampled eggs)

[novaxwalker]

This time was always a tough time of year for Elliot.  Gio’s birthday was this month and was attached to some unpleasant memories, not to mention the anniversary of his mother’s passing.  This year would be 12 years now.  A combination of those two made it impossible to sleep soundly at night.  He had great cellmates, so he didn’t want to be on his phone all night or anything, especially because school just started back up again.  Elliot never took a lot classes, preferring to go slower and concentrate on the few he had, but not everyone was like that and he would feel horrible ruining it.  And, by the time he did seem to fall asleep, it never lasted, having him wake up with nightmares.  

So here he was, in class, head bowed and jerking every so often to keep himself awake, until he fell into a deeper sleep, drifting slowly until he was in dreamworld, no longer paying attention until a nudge to his shoulder stirred him out of it.  “Sorry!” he apologized, rubbing his eyes.  “Did I miss a lot?”

Oh..my...god.... Nova had always been pretty sure that she could sleep with her eyes open and all this class had done for her so far was to prove that theory true. It was only the start of the new term and already she was regretting the life choice that had led her to taking this class. Did she really want to be a professional this badly? Hell, she could probably make more money as a TikTok-er as it was. But noooo.... She had to go reaching for more and this was her punishment. At least she wasn’t the only one who was struggling, as most of the class looked like extras from The Walking Dead. Unintelligible noises included it would seem...

“Hey!” Nova hissed, leaning over and poking Elliot’s shoulder. He was the closest to her, therefore the winner of her sudden burst of altruism. “Hell if I know, not like I was paying attention. Just didn’t want you to get in trouble. You snore dude.” She informed him with a chuckle.

@pretty-boyelliot​​

[serenailith]

ghosts that we knew

a follow-up to this post

part 4 here

Dream. That’s what the Stranger says his name is. Or Morpheus, if Dream is ‘strange’. Or others—Oneiros, Prince of Stories, Master of Dreams, Lord of the Dreamworld, even Sandman.

“I have plenty to choose from,” he offers with a sly smile, and it breaks Hob from his surprised silence.

“I’m… I’m sorry about—”

“Apologies are unnecessary, Hob Gadling. I trust we have both grown,” Dream says, and there’s something in the cosmos of his eyes that tells Hob that perhaps Dream has grown the most of the two of them. Hob is still the same man he was all those centuries ago, but Dream… Dream is different.

Hob hesitates then asks, “Were you that angry with me that you stayed away for so long?”

Something shifts in Dream’s expression, something ugly and haunted. But then his face smooths out save for a divot between his brows. He reaches for a napkin in the holder, running the paper through his long fingers as he stares at Hob.

“Of course not,” he finally replies slowly. “There were… certain circumstances that I could not avoid.”

“So you would have found me in 1989, then?”

“Perhaps then, perhaps later. But know this, Hob Gadling, I would have found you. You are, after all, one of the most intriguing men I have had the pleasure of meeting.”

A heat floods Hob’s cheeks at the compliment. Him, intriguing? Maybe if one counted everything he’d gone through—were he able to tell the truth about his life. Dream cocks his head as if he can hear what Hob is thinking. Before he can say anything, Hob cuts him off.

“Why tell me who you are now?”

It isn’t what he meant to say, but it’s what comes out anyway. Dream cocks his head, eyes widening slightly, then his lips twitch.

“I now believe there should be a degree of honesty between friends. And names are rather important, are they not?”

Hob catches the eye of a woman two tables over. Her gaze darts to Dream’s face, cheeks colouring, then she stares at the coffee in front of her. With a soft sigh, Hob turns his attention back to Dream. Dream who has released the napkin in favour of linking his fingers together, hands clasped in front of him on the table. His gaze remains unwavering on Hob’s face.

“Tell me about your life, what I have missed in my absence.”

Hob stills for a moment. Instead of asking more questions—demanding an answer as to where Dream has been for so long, why it was out of his control—Hob talks of the past hundred years. A heavy weight settles in his gut when Dream doesn’t recognise names or events. He’s always known information before Hob could explain, yet here he is as if everything is brand new information.

The more he talks, the easier Hob finds it to pretend things are much the same as they always have been. Like this is just another meeting instead of a shift in their relationship. They’d never been truly friends before. But Dream has changed that.

Dream called them ‘friends’, and Hob wants so badly to question it. What happened to the Lord of Dreams that he’d be so different? Why was friendship suddenly an option when Hob had been kept at arm’s length for centuries?

He aches for answers but leaves the questions unsaid.

The sun sets outside. The overhead lights flicker on, cast a hazy glow on Dream’s features, softening the sharp lines of his jaw. It does nothing to hide the stars in his eyes.

They part as friends with no promise of another century. Hob knows they’ll see each other again.

He hopes.

Hob hurries home in the dying light, bag weighing heavily on his shoulder but his soul lighter than it has been since he laid eyes on Dream in 1889. Before the fight, when he’d chased the Stranger from the tavern and watched him disappear into the stormy night. Hob can still remember the sinking in his gut as Dream had vanished between one blink and the next. He can still taste the fear on his tongue that his Stranger would never come back.

It took far longer than they’d agreed upon, but Dream had come back.

Hob lies in bed later that night, stares at the ceiling. There’s so much rattling around in his brain now. He grins to himself after a moment—he hadn’t damaged the relationship irreparably in 1889. What’s better is, Dream has admitted they are friends. It’s far more than Hob ever expected. The glow of the street lamp plays along the wall, orange-gold against grey.

Morpheus. Sandman. Master of Dreams. Well, this is quite awkward. Hob sighs and scratches at his chin. He rarely has trouble falling asleep these days—not after six centuries of practice, not in such a comfortable bed—but he can’t stop the thoughts colliding against each other.

Namely, one worry: If Dream is in charge of the dream-world, does he see what Hob dreams?

Hob doesn’t sleep that night.

There’s no sound, no stirring of air, but Hob knows he’s no longer alone in his dream. He stares blankly at the fire before him as a shape lowers itself to sit on the couch. His Stranger—no longer a stranger, after their latest meeting two weeks ago—watches him carefully. Hob can’t explain what’s on his mind.

How can he? It’s been centuries since he lost Robyn and Eleanor, his mother and sister, everyone he’s ever cared for. The pain is muted most of the time, easily pushed to the side in favour of pretending he’s someone new every so often.

But tonight, the ghosts haunt him more vividly than they have in a long while.

He can see his son, barely twenty, at the edge of the fireplace, one arm braced against the mantel and dark eyes watching the flames dance merrily in the grate. Eleanor sits in the rocking chair, a featureless form in her arms. Hob was never able to look at the babe that took his wife’s life. It hurt too much, so he still has no idea if the child had his nose or its mother’s colouring. His mother is in the far corner darning socks, and his sister embroiders a tapestry meant to pass to her children.

Hob knows Dream can see the ghosts of his past. Hob knows this is far more morose a scenery than his dreams usually are. He just can’t find it in him to banish the spectres tonight. Sometimes, he thinks, it’s best to dwell on history. Not often, but sometimes. And tonight is one of those times.

“You don’t have to be here,” he finally murmurs before taking a sip of his whisky.

“You need not be alone,” Dream replies as if it’s the most expected response.

Hob lets out an inelegant snort and finishes off the amber liquid in his glass. “Haven’t you seen? I’m not alone tonight.”

“Would you wish me gone?”

And that’s the question that brings Hob up short. If he banishes Dream, then he truly will be alone. Ghosts pale in comparison to the everlasting being who is perched carefully on the leather sofa. But if he allows Dream to remain, then Dream will see just how broken Hob can be.

“I don’t know.”

Dream hums in response, rising fluidly to his feet, and moves around the room. “Tell me about them,” he says, a request as much as it is a demand.

Hob wants to say no. He wants to keep the information to himself—putting into words who these people were… The thought of it hurts. But he finds himself stumbling as he stands, making his way to the bar, pouring himself another drink. Dream stands in the centre of the room and watches as Hob drinks the whisky in two large swallows. Then, and only then, does Hob begin speaking.

Dream stays silent as Hob talks. As the flames slowly die and the words still flow forth. By the time Hob finishes, the fire is barely more than embers, and Dream is within reach. All Hob has to do is raise an arm, and he will feel flesh beneath his fingertips. He doesn’t. He can’t.

He doesn’t deserve to know what Dream’s skin feels like, he doesn’t deserve to know anything about Dream. Not tonight. Not ever, but especially not tonight.

“You should go,” he whispers, voice a broken husk.

“I should wish to not leave you alone.”

And the ghosts are gone now, as if waved from existence with one slender, pale hand.

If Dream leaves, Hob would truly be alone. He doesn’t want to be alone. He knows this is just a dream, that none of them have been in his flat. Not his wife or children, mother or sister, nor Dream. It’s all in his head.

But still, he doesn’t want to be alone.

So he waves a hand dismissively and drops to sit in his armchair once more. Dream remains standing. Before Hob can say anything else, cool fingers brush across his forehead, push his hair back. Something soft, infinitesimal, slips along his skin, and he sinks back into his armchair and stares through half-closed eyes at Dream.

Dream who smiles such a small smile that sends Hob’s heart fluttering. Hob blinks once, twice, memorising that subtle curve of lips and the compassion in the stars of his eyes.

He’s in bed, he realises as soon as his eyes open. He’s in bed, and there’s no whisky on the bedside table. He pushes himself to sit up, expecting a spinning head and nausea but finding nothing. Right. Just a dream. Pushing back his duvet, Hob swings his legs over the edge of the mattress and pushes to his feet.

The next step in his morning routine is simple enough—and much needed: Coffee. He shuffles to the kitchen, scrubbing a hand over his eyes and yawning widely, and thanks his past self for setting the machine to start before he even woke. Steam spirals into the air, and Hob breathes in the aroma as he fills a mug. The serenity of the morning is what he most looks forward to, especially after dreams like last night’s.

Dreams. Dream.

Had Dream truly shown up? Or was it a manifestation of Hob’s desire to see the Endless being? He supposes he’ll never really know. Dream is far too enigmatic for that.

“I trust you slept well.”

The voice comes from behind Hob who jumps, spilling coffee over his hand and the counter. He whirls on his heel to see Dream only inches away. Grabbing the dishtowel from where it hangs from a magnet on the refrigerator, Hob wipes away the scalding liquid and curses under his breath. His frustration disappears, rather quickly, in the face of Dream’s contrition.

Before their latest meeting at the New Inn, Hob would have said remorse wasn’t something an entity like Dream felt. If Dream felt anything at all. But with a friendship firmly established, despite the centuries it took to get to this point, he knows better. He can see now that Dream feels more than any human ever would. Dream feels the weight of everyone’s dreams and nightmares, the world, the universes uncountable.

“I apologise. I never meant to startle you.” In the face of Hob’s silence, Dream continues, “And I apologise for intruding on your dreams last night. I could sense the melancholy and wanted to be sure of your overall safety.”

Hob shakes his head quickly. He’s not angry about the change of dreams; no, he’s thankful. If Dream hadn’t appeared, there is no telling just how far into the melancholy and memories that Hob would have fallen. He tells Dream as much as he tosses the cloth onto the countertop. Dream studies him closely.

“You do not dream of them often.”

“I try not to,” Hob admits. “It’s… It’s hard to see them. These dreams, when their ghosts haunt me? That’s the only time I remember what they look like.”

Dream frowns but doesn’t speak. His eyes darken, narrow slightly, then he jerkily lifts his arms into the air. Hob’s brows rise to his hairline at the movement; Dream shifts awkwardly the longer Hob stays quiet. Finally, Hob clears his throat.

“What is this, then?”

“I have learned that sometimes, an embrace helps ease emotional pain. Is that not…?”

Dream’s cheeks fill with a pink tint, and his arms lower clumsily to his side again. Hob finally registers what Dream has said, stepping forward with little fanfare. He stares into those star-flecked eyes then loops his arms around Dream’s waist.

“A hug would be nice. Thank you.”

It’s like hugging a statue at first: Dream tenses beneath Hob’s touch but finally seems to accept the inevitable that he initiated. Then, abruptly, he melts into the embrace and pulls Hob closer—as if he needs the contact more than Hob ever could.

Without thinking, he buries his face against Dream’s throat and breathes in the scent of everything and nothing, the hopes and dreams of humanity, and fresh rain.

Dream’s grip tightens infinitesimally.

The two stand in the centre of the room for what feels like forever, but Hob doesn’t want it to end. Dream was right: An embrace helps emotional pain. He just hadn’t counted on an embrace bringing with it more than just relief.

“You must go,” Dream murmurs after a while, though he doesn’t release Hob.

“I can cancel class.”

But Hob knows he can’t. There are exams coming up, and the students need all the time and help possible to prepare. So he reluctantly lets his arms drop away, stepping back, and barely catches the tail-end of something in Dream’s expression. Just a flicker, then it’s gone.

He doesn’t question it. He only claps a hand to Dream’s shoulder before easing past him to head to the bedroom.

By the time Hob finishes dressing and brushing his teeth, Dream is gone, leaving behind a gaping chasm of silence in his wake. Hob sighs and cards his fingers through his hair. Who had taught Dream about hugs? It’s an absurd thought, a mental image Hob didn’t know he needed of some faceless entity forcing Dream to sit at a desk for an hour-long lecture on the healing properties of a proper embrace.

Hob laughs at the picture his brain has conjured up then makes his way around the room, gathering what he needs for class.

He’s just reached the end of the lecture when he looks around the room. The same faces stared back at him. All familiar except one. With short bleached blonde hair swept back, they lounge in their chair and grin at Hob. Isabel raises her hand, and Hob turns to answer her question. When he looks back, the golden-eyed person is gone, leaving behind the faint scent of summer peaches to linger in the air.

[aonrivers]

Pregnancy, Birth, Postpartum, and Baby Time! (TMI warning) - Part 01

Recently I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. For nine months I read articles and expectations of things to happen and to come, but honestly nothing prepared me for the truth of it all. Sure my friends told me some stuff, but nothing like what I experienced.

I’ve decided to write the nitty gritty of it all along with tips for new moms that I wish I had too. This is going to be major TMI, but when you've given birth, nothing seems like TMI anymore - especially because in the labor room you've got about ten people you've never met before (yes, even your doctor) staring at your asshole and your crotch. With introductions out of the way, are you ready? Here we go!

Part 1 of IDK how many...

Truths about being pregnant:

1) First and foremost... Officially remove negative people in your life the moment that stick says positive. This is Tip #1. I planned on doing this for months before I got pregnant but being pregnant pushed me to do it sooner. I was tired of being stressed out and having negative things told me by certain people in my life and I wasn't going to have it continue during one of the most stressful and most beautiful times of my life. I closed the door on many friendships during my first few weeks and even though it still bugs me that I had to do it, I'm glad I did and recommend others to do the same (even when you aren't pregnant). 2) Tip #2 I can offer is either before or during your pregnancy, plan a vacation. I was on vacation when I got pregnant and planned a trip with my best friend when I hit mid third trimester (would've been sooner but 2020 was a hellish year for the world). 3) I bought a belly book after a few weeks of finding out I was pregnant. My friend recommended it and it was really cool to document every week and my thoughts and post my belly bump pictures, but then second trimester hit and the book was wrong... I ignored it until the third trimester hit and it was wrong again. What was wrong with it? They claimed my trimesters started in certain weeks that were 2-3 weeks off. I Googled my trimesters and checked multiple sites - the book was wrong. So I finally said screw it and created my own. I bought a scrapbook (use a Michael's coupon, that shit is expensive) and I began to craft my own book. 4) A huge suggestion: take those belly bump pictures!! It sounds silly but it's super cool to have. Not only do you get to see your belly growing, but you can put those pictures in your scrapbook like I did. I took the same pose in the same place every Friday. Then I found a really cool app that you could put words on your images and ended up doing that for my Instagram posts. 5) My 3rd tip is make sure you have a really good relationship with your doctor and they believe in the same things you do. I think this is important because I wasn't happy with the thought of being pregnant with my normal doctor then I ended up not being happy half the time with the doctors I went to while pregnant. I wish I had that doctor patient relationship you think every pregnant lady has. I kind of had that with my crazy, beady-eyed doctor I had seen for thirteen years, but when it came time to have a child, she just didn't align with me. She was pro everything I'm not and became a little too radical for me. Be who you wanna be, believe and think what you wanna believe and think, but don't push that shit on me - and that's the direction she started going. So in the end, I left her and went with my friend's doctor... Who happened to have 5+ doctors and a midwife.... Midwife was cool and maybe two of the doctors, but the rest I wasn't a fan of. I didn't even know the doctor who I gave birth with and it was very impersonal with the doctors I saw during the checkups. For example: one doctor would come in, glance at me, talk to me while staring at the computer screen, then leave. I also didn't get ultrasounds done with them, only heartbeat checks. It just wasn't a journey with them like I thought it would be and should've had. Now speaking of those sweet black and white first photos... 6) Sonograms are beautiful things to have. I got a nice picture frame for my second trimester image and have it on my dresser with a cute doll and my childhood music box. Treasure these little pictures. Take pictures of them to keep and reprint because the ink will fade on the ones the tech gives you, but for the love of God, hide your personal information when you post them. Sonograms say your name and birthdate, along with where you got the picture taken then more information on your child. It irks me to no end when people post this online. Especially on Twitter, which is a public forum. Shit. I didn't even post that on my private Instagram. 7) Next Tip: Call insurance to confirm multiple things, such as: what's covered during pregnancy/hospital stay/postpartum, if the hospital is covered, and if your Pediatrician is in network. Just because the office says "yes we take Aetna/UHC" doesn't mean they're in network. 8) Something that I will be telling everyone I know who is pregnant (which honestly isn't many) is scourge the internet for those pregnancy sites. Most sites and stores offer sample boxes. If you start a registry, they send you one too. Try: Amazon, Babylist, BuyBuyBaby, Walmart, Target... The list goes on. Check What To Expect's website for a list of all the sample box sites. I got about ten boxes that all had great stuff inside: bottles, pacifiers, breast milk pouches, diapers, lotion/shampoo samples, wipes, pads, and a few other smaller things. I honestly haven't used any of it, but plan to soon. 9) A great tip my friend told me was to go on those breast pump sites and check to see if your insurance is covered. My insurance ended up covering up to $300 for a breast pump. Of course I went with a $300 breast pump and paid an extra $30 out of pocket to have a few more parts included in my purchase. It was a great idea and is highly recommended for new moms to take advantage of! (I went with Spectra for a few reasons... It's definitely quieter than the Medela pump (the hospital had this one), and there's a nifty nightlight on the pump handle with two settings. It's super useful and I actually use the nightlight feature every night...) 10) Another great tip is to make that baby registry and share it!! People you don't expect will buy stuff. I used Amazon and got a bunch of perks. After my shower, I bought the rest of my stuff with the discounts Amazon offers. It was 2 bulk orders where both had 15% off entire order. I also get discounts on diapers for a year or, I think, the equivalent of $600 spent. Both perks were extremely helpful. 11) FYI, pregnancy is ten months, not nine. They tell you this in articles on The Bump and What To Expect, but I figured I'd say it anyways. 12) You won't miss your period during this time. I sure don't. 21 years so far is long enough for me. 13) The nausea is real and it sucks. It gets to the point where you don't wanna try for baby number two because you're just so over it after being sick for three months straight. 14) Nausea doesn't mean you're hanging over the toilet bowl throwing up the only food that doesn't make you sick. You can just have that knot in your throat all day that's teasing you about having to throw up. Not fun. 15) Being tired is also real and I have no idea how working moms-to-be do it. I work from home, so taking power naps was easy to do. Most of the time, I couldn't keep my eyes open. And it took about three months to find out why... (see next number) 16) YOU'RE NOT ONLY GROWING A HUMAN INSIDE YOU BUT A FREAKING ORGAN TOO!! That's right folks. The placenta isn't just chilling inside you waiting for the day you get pregnant. It's growing right alongside your little baby, taking your nutrients and energy so it can form and power up your little embryo/fetus. 17) If you're a vivid dreamer like me, the dreams are definitely weird. They tell you this, but for me, my dream self becomes pregnant too. I literally went through my dreamworlds pregnant. 18) Boobs hurting is an understatement. My boobs hurt so badly from the hormones and getting ready for milk that I didn't even wanna touch them when I was showering. 19) Your boobs become hideous. I have small breast - a nearly A has been my measurement in the past, but becoming pregnant, I became a large B - probably going into a small C cup. And not only did the boob itself get bigger and veinier, but the nipples got bigger and darker (confirmed by my friends, doctor, and websites that women experience this change). I honestly don't recognize my boobs anymore. I also don't even know why I wanted bigger boobs growing up. They suck. It's not the backaches (I didn't have any while pregnant, surprisingly), it's the fact that when you sleep on your side, that boob gets crushed and goes numb. 20) Boobs leak as they start forming that first collection of milk aka colostrum. So be aware. Being braless is great but those milk stains aren't cute. And it's not like a normal wet spot either where your nipples are. It's a wet stain with a milky ring around it making it totally unattractive. 21) Your nipples will become numb aka no stimulation. At least for me. My nipples are still numb but I guess it goes without saying why (think about it). 22) On websites, they will tell you that your cervix swells and some women enjoy sex more with their new closed off vagina, but not for me. It hurt to do anything down there. My husband and I had one position available and when the bump got bigger, we became celibate. And boy does the guilt take over... So expect this to happen - you're not alone if it does. 23) Your sex drive may be gone. As I said above, I swelled up down there and it was very painful having sex. With that, the sex drive was killed. My poor hubby suffered through these nine months and continued to suffer after birth because- well I'll get to why suffering continues after birth later. 24) Craving food may not happen for you. I didn't crave anything unusual. The only thing I ate on a daily basis were two English muffins with butter. On weekly basis I had three scrambled eggs on those two English muffins. This occurred maybe 2-3 times a week. Other than that, my "cravings" were the same. I wanted Taco Bell and all the other normal stuff I ate when not pregnant. 25) Paranoia for what you're eating will definitely hit you. Guilt will too. Paranoia because you're checking Google to see if you were allowed to eat that pasta with garlic sauce; and guilt because you're eating crappy junk food and feel like you're depriving your baby of nutrients. But like my friend told me, your body provides the baby what it needs and to stop being paranoid. Also those prenatals pack a punch in vitamins. 26) This isn't really nitty gritty or a tip... it's just something I personally did while pregnant and that was - I stayed away from the foods they tell you to like the high mercury fish and cold cuts, but I ate hot dogs and medium cooked beef. But those meats were cooked 170°+ which they recommend if you wanna eat your normal foods. You can also eat cold cuts but it's highly recommended they're warmed up. These meats contain listeria which is something we can defeat by ourselves but our little babies in the womb have difficulty in doing. Another thing I did in regards to food was I stayed away from foods I was allowed to eat but made me sick when I wasn't pregnant. I just didn't want to deal with the sickness. 27) Sleep however tf you want to sleep and that's exactly what I did. Sleeping on my side is not something I do when not pregnant and certainly didn't happen while pregnant. That is, not until the last month or two. I'll elaborate... I'm a back sleeper. I slept on my back and felt my baby every night tucking into one side of my belly because it was comfortable for her. It wasn't until those last months where the weight of my baby was actually pushing on my spine and yes you can feel it. It's a heavy pain that forces you to side sleep. 28) Those pregnancy pillows are shit. Seriously. They're bulky and annoying. My friend bought me a super nice one that went under the head, down the back, and cupped between the legs and I used it for five minutes. I'll find use for it one of these days - maybe gift it to my friend who is due in April - but right now it's just taking up space downstairs. I tried the slanted pillow for my belly. That lasted a month. What did it for me was that silly "As Seen On TV" pillow. It's that white, guitar pick looking pillow you shove between your knees to keep your legs leveled and your spine straight. That's literally the only pillow that helped me when my belly got huge. My bed worked out in my favor cupping my bump. 29) Being pregnant in the summer isn't that bad. Granted I had AC/Central Air the entire time. But seriously... You know why it also wasn't so bad? I could wear tank tops and dresses. Those were my maternity clothes. I bought maternity leggings for $4 when Kohl's had them on sale. They sucked. The belly piece went over the belly nicely, but the back road my back fat in a very uncomfortable way (and I don't really have back fat). Also, flip flops were my Godsend. When my feet swelled, flip flops were all I wore. Can't do that in the colder months! 30) I basically became a heater. Probably because I gained 4lbs of blood and water and a baby and whatever else was going on in my body. I normally sleep with a fleece blanket and a comforter; even in the summer. I could only use my fleece blanket while pregnant. I was surprisingly warm enough. Which leads me to the next sleeping factor... 31) Sleeping naked was a must. Here's why... Besides being hot all the time, waistbands hurt me and shirts bugged the crap outta my body. 32) Being commando all the time was a must. It was super nice being commando. I didn't have to worry about a period making a grand entrance and the waistband and around my thighs weren't hurting. 33) A nice buying tip: the baby grows super fast. And if your baby is born in the fall or winter, chances are the stores only have summer clothes. So make sure you get those larger outfits for the months to come! 34) Ask for larger clothes for that baby shower. It'll help down the road. 35) Shaving stops when you can no longer see down there and when you can no longer bend comfortably to shave your legs. Of course that didn't stop me before I went to the hospital. I cleaned up the best I could from the belly button down, but still managed to miss that one spot on my damn kneecap! 36) Back to baby... Flutters start being felt really early. Feels like gas but it's the baby. They say 16 weeks but I was feeling the flutters at 12 weeks. After the flutters came the kicks and jabs, and the constant wondering if I had a mini Mike Tyson in my belly. Especially when my belly would convulse like she was using my organs as a punching bag. I came across only one random article that explained what that was... Hiccups. Yes, the baby gets hiccups in utero and if your baby is like mine, the damn things continue outside the womb annoying your little bundle of joy like your own hiccups annoy you. 37) Sometimes you'll panic when you don't feel the baby moving much. Babies in the womb still need sleep I was told. If you get no movement at all within 24 hours no matter what you do then definitely call your doctor. (Your doctor should tell you this during a visit.) 38) I was told this: babies hear you and mostly everything around you outside the womb. This is true. My baby would move from her comfy right side to the left just to get closer to where my husband was talking to her. 39) Third trimester is when everything starts getting real, possibly painful, and definitely the feeling of "I'm over this". They mention this on those websites and they're not joking. 40) Every night I popped two tums just to keep the acid reflux down and the heartburn away. They say major heartburn means you've got a hairy baby and they weren't kidding (more on this later). 41) Waddling actually does occur. At first I felt like I was just doing it because I'm pregnant and subconsciously I'm making fun of pregnant ladies you see in movies. But you really do waddle and wonder if your walk will ever be the same again. (Spoiler: it does.) 42) My feet and legs swelled by my 8th month. They were slowly swelling into the third trimester but it was super noticeable towards the end. But I also ran into a health issue which I'll get to later... The swelling actually hurts. It feels like you're walking on water bags and on top of that, the bottom of your feet feel like you walked all of Disney World nonstop for a week straight. Do yourself a favor and put your feet up and rest. I hardly did this. I just had so much stuff I wanted to get done and I don't like asking for help, so I did everything myself until it got to the point where my husband or mother-in-law were yelling at me. 43) Getting a cold while pregnant sucks. Coughing and blowing your nose is kind of hard because you start to worry that your upsetting your baby. Plus, now you gotta think about medicine. What's safe and should you even bother... Luckily your doctor gives a list of safe medications. 44) Swelling in the feet could be something completely different than just the normal "things to expect in your third trimester" so be aware and prepared for problems that can arise that you weren't expecting. Like what happened to me. Even though those monthly appointments turned weekly get annoying, especially when you gotta drive thirty minutes to your appointments, they're not pointless. In week 38 I had protein in my urine and my blood pressure was high. The protein was not a UTI like what I got when I conceived back in December. That protein was a glimpse into something pretty scary if not caught early during pregnancy. It's called pre-eclampsia. Luckily I was two weeks out from my due date so inducing me wasn't too big of an issue. My baby was fully grown. Only way to get rid of pre-eclampsia is to remove the placenta - hence the early birth of my baby. But some mom's aren't this lucky and lemme tell you something. This was something that was never brought up to me during my doctor visits or on the websites I visited. They don't tell you that pre-eclampsia can happen at any point or that it could come back, and possibly worse, in your next pregnancies until you've been tested positive for it. I was in the hospital for five days after giving birth. My kidneys, heart, and platelets were all affected. Thank God I'm cleared now, but knowing about this ahead of time would've been nice. I could've looked for signs which were massive swelling in legs and feet (luckily I had no headaches or blurry vision). But like I said, I was tested positive late in the game. Some mother's aren't. Part 02 will go into labor and the TMI things that go on when you're admitted into the hospital.

[courtofsapphiresandshadows]

Chapter Two- Aegan

"Who are you, and why were you with Nesta?" Cassian growled at Aegan, the point of the Illyrian blade wavering just under her chin.

"Well Nesta, you were right about him being demanding", she told her, chuckling slightly, only for Cassian to move the blade closer to her throat.

"Who. Are. You."

"Okay, okay.” Aegan held her hands up in defense, a small smirk building on her lips. “I'm Aegan, and I was just helping Nesta return back to camp."

The Commander narrowed his eyes, and glanced over at Nesta. She shot him a cold look. "Cassian, leave her alone."

He slid his eyes over her, grumbled something under his breath, and made his way back to a tent.

"Well, he certainly seems friendly", Aegan joked, turning around to look over at Nesta. The High Fae only sighed, shaking her head slightly.

"You should go home- I don't want you getting caught by any patrols", Nesta said simply, before making her way back to her tent, leaving Aegan alone in the clearing.

The Ilyrian flexed her wings, glancing around the camp. It reminded her of her old home- disgusting, and full of men. She could understand why her mother couldn't stand Aegan even being in Ironcrest. She glanced back over at Nesta, who had disappeared into a tent, before taking off into the night sky, the camp growing into a small dot behind her.

Since she wasn't holding anyone, Aegan did, according to Nesta, her 'fancy flying'. She barrel rolled through fluffy clouds, and soared over the forest below. Aegan had missed this- having the ability to fly where she pleased, without being struck down by an invisible force.

She didn't know where she was going at first, before realizing she was taking a familiar route to her mother's house. Aegan could practically see the ruins of them as she approached it- she had to assume that the Illyrians had gotten to her after Aegan was sent away.

She remembered flying here as soon as she was free, desperate to see if she was still alive.  When Aegan got her, all that remained was charred wood, her mother's body rotting in a corner. She had screamed in agony, unintentionally releasing a blast of power that toppled trees to the ground, permanently silencing the songbirds that once lulled her to sleep.

It hadn’t changed since.

Her feet dusted against the ground, causing dust to stir as she landed on the remnants of her old home. No tears slid down her face this time- she had come to accept her mother's death, and anger had replaced the sadness that tore her apart.

Aegan walked over to the small grave that she had constructed for her mother. Only a small stack of stones showed that a person was buried there- it was considered voodoo to disturb it.

"Hey mom", she whispered, kneeling beside the grave. "You'll be proud to hear that I made a new friend. Her name's Nesta, and apparently she killed Hybern- you'll approve, I'm sure." She could imagine her mother chuckling slightly, her laughter reminding her of the soft tittering of birds that she would draw for Aegan.

Before she could say anything else, a scream echoed through the forest. She snapped to attention, her eyes focusing on where the sound had came from. Her heart dropped- a girl was having her wings clipped. It was a miracle that she managed to keep here- most likely due to killing the guards before they got too close. 

She took one last glance at the grave, before taking off into the air, drawing the small knife that she always carried- at least, until she found Sasha again. It was one of her throwing knifes, after all.

Aegan spotted the young Illyrian girl rather quickly. She was huddled against a tree trunk, fear evident in her eyes as a soldier crept closer to her, a hunting knife tightly grasped in his hand. "C'mon girl", he grumbled to her, "stop making this so difficult."

"Please", the girl sobbed, trying her best to hide her wings from him. "Please, not my wings."

Right as the guard managed to grab one of her wings, Aegan attacked. Flying straight at him, she kicked the guard in the chest, causing him to go sprawling backwards.

She stood in front of the girl, flaring her wings slightly to shield her from view. "Hide", she whispered to her, the other nodding frantically before dashing through the woods. Only then did Aegan realize the odd angle in the girl's left wing- it was broken, most likely. She wouldn't be able to escape on her own.

The guard pushed himself up, drawing his sword, snarling at her. She hissed in return, but sheathed the throwing knife at her side. Aegan wouldn't be able to spar against a sword with a knife.

He smirked, thinking that he would be victorious. The thing was, his sword might've bested her knife, but it didn't come close to the dark power that flowed deep within her.

Aegan smirked back, and unleashed a small portion of her power at him.

It was enough to make him fall to his knees, dropping his sword in the process. He cowered back in fear, as shadows whirled around her. Unlike a shadow singer's shadows, her's only wanted one thing- to destroy whatever was around them. However, Aegan kept them close- this time, that is. She didn't want to give him the mercy of a painless death.

She strode over towards him, her shadows flowing her obediently, and stood in front of the guard. "Pathetic", she spat at him, wrapping a hand around his throat, pressing her thumb against his adam's apple. "Clipping a girl's wings? It would appear that Ironcrest really hasn't improved since the last time I was there".

The guard clawed at her hand, not able to breath.

"Daven? Where's the girl?" A voice called out. Of course someone would begin to wonder the soldier's- Daven's- prolonged absence.

Aegan sighed slightly, before returning her gaze to him. "Well Daven, it appears that our time is up. I'll be seeing you in the fiery depths of hell," she told him, before a claw erupted from her thumb, piercing straight through his throat. His eyes widened, blood coming out from his mouth, before going limp in her hand. She dropped the body, wiped off her bloodied claw on her pants, before turning her back on the body, leaving it to be found.

The girl was hiding behind a fallen tree when Aegan appeared. "Is he- did you-"

"Yes", Aegan replied in a soft voice, her shadows disappearing, going back inside her. "You don't need to worry about him again."

The girl smiled shakily, before beginning to cry again. She wrapped her arms around her neck, hugging her tightly. "Thank you", she sobbed, burying her head into Aegan's shoulder.

Aegan returned the hug, stroking her hair, before remembering that there were more soldiers close by. "We have to go- hang on", was all she said, before wrapped her arms around her waist, taking off into the sky.

They managed to evade the soldiers, mainly due to the fact that Aegan was a fast flyer, and most Illyrians weren't exactly the smartest, and made it back to the cave in one piece. Bones trotted outside, and howled at them as they approached.

"Bones! What did I say about staying inside?" She snapped at the hound, who instantly fell silent. Aegan landed, her feet crunching in the snow, and gently placed the girl down. "You know", she began to say as she lead her inside, "I never caught your name."

"My name's Estelle", she said quietly. "Am I ever going to be able to return home again?"

Aegan's gut clenched. She hadn't thought about that. "When things die down, and when the camp agrees not to clip your wings", she told her, smiling softly. She then frowned, glancing at her injured wing. "Speaking of which, we should probably take care of that."

Estelle nodded in agreement, letting her take her wing in her hand.

"Doesn't seem too badly broken- I bet if we just put it back in place, and let it heal, you'll be fine", Aegan guessed, before glancing up at her. "You ready?"

Estelle looked at her in confusion. "What do you mean-"

A large crack sounded, as Aegan readjusted the bone. Tears slipped from Estelle's eyes, but she otherwise showed no signs of pain.

"Alright- bone's in place. Now, all you have to do is wait for it to heal." Aegan pointed to a bed in the corner of the cave. "If you wish, you can get some rest, I need to be up for a little while longer."

The younger Illyrian nodded, before going over to sit on the bed, promptly passing out on the soft mattress.

Aegan placed a blanket over her, and smoothed some of the hair out of her eyes. 'Poor kid', she thought to herself, before going to sit on the entrance of her cave, Bones flopping down next to her. She scratched the dog behind the ears, and gazed up at the stars.

Although she prayed for the opposite, she knew that the peace that she was enduring wouldn't last forever. She had, more or less, stolen a girl from a war camp, and killed a soldier. Ironcrest would have already place a price on her head, if they found out who she was. That, and she still needed to find Sasha, if she was still alive. Aegan had a feeling she was. After all, Sasha was not an easy person to kill- many have tried, and all of them had failed.

She felt her eyes begin to droop, and she wrapped her wings around her like a blanket. 'Tomorrow', she planned to herself, as she slowly drifted asleep. 'I will visit Nesta, and ask her to watch Estelle while I search for Sasha'.

Aegan didn't sleep pleasantly.

@thisgryffindorlllyrian

@nestaarcheronwillkillme

@dreamworld-1997

@rairrai

@callie-bear15 

[blackrosesredwineblogspot]

Sometimes I wonder if I am alone in being haunted by my dreams... maybe haunted isn't always the correct term. Sometimes I would say haunted, others I'd use the term tormented, and on the rare occasion "treated". The coveted treat dreams linger like Disaronno on the tongue. Those are the ones where I refuse to open my eyes because I fear I will instantly begin forgetting. The haunts and torments usually involve dead loved ones; Grand parents, elderly aunt's, and elderly friends of the family. It is so odd how nice these people were to me in life...especially my Nan, but at night these loved ones might as well be demons. Usually they are nice, but I am aware that they are deceased. It feels like some unspoken thing...I cannot let them know that I know. If they lock eyes with me, I am fu$&#d😳 no longer are they nice or going about their day. They will notice me...like a shark smelling blood. I must then find an escape and a quick one. Often I will look down and realized that I have no shoes on (which is ridiculous) or that my vehicle is not outside and I must conjure one. I am a strong lucid dreamer, but at times it just doesn't work. I begin my journey hastily and of course realize that I do not know where I am headed. Where do I live?! I was a bit of a vagabond probably due to my military life style. Never ever allowed to stay anywhere for more than 4 years. Often in my dreams I do not know what state I am in or where I live...there are so many choices.

I am a decent driver in real life (gag... real life) DreamWorld Roses can not drive for shyt apparently. No matter what I am driving, the car in uncontrollable. Imagine if your brake line were puncture and leaking just slightly, you needed an alignment very badly, so the car jerks and pulls with a mind of it's own etc etc. If I try to stop the nonsense by putting the car in park, it will continue on or roll backward into oncoming traffic. Ultimately the vehicle has one goal...

To kill me. Now I know what you are thinking 🤔. First zombie dead elders now the get away car is evil??? Let me be clear, it doesn't want me to meet my fate by crashing head on into a tree, nearly missing a deer and rolling my car 6 times ...no no no no 🫣. It fully has the intentions to drown me A repetitive slow burn that I can spot from a mile a away. I will almost always come across a bridge, it does not have to be large and impressive bridge just a bridge with water underneath. My car will pull to one side and I will go over the side of the bridge but it seems to happen in slow motion. It has happened so many times that in my dreams now using lucid abilities I will instinctively roll the window down unlock the door and be prepared to escape the car.

I must add that as a child I had a drowning experience at a local swimming pool and this may be the reason for the drowning dreams (every thing connects) however I am not sure how the car plays a role in this factor at all. So the car goes over....blah blah blah...if I'm in control very well I will roll the window down take my seat belt off and be prepared to jump out of the window before the car even splashes the water. I will sink about 6 ft down into the dark water. I can see that I'm reaching the surface because the Sun is bright and glistening but there are times where it seems like I can swim forever and ever and I can't break the surface and I know that I am going to drown...this is the most common part really. I have some odd medical condition I must add that it's likened to sleep walking but not quite the same thing I act out my dreams I hold my breath if I'm holding my breath in my dreams I kick if I'm kicking in my dreams etc you get the gist. So basically as I fight for my life and my dreams which feel extremely real as real as reality I wake up with my lungs burning my chest in pain anxiety through the roof maybe a tear streaming down my eye,I realized that it's not real and I can go back to sleep but only to just repeat the same cycle again and again sometimes the players are a little bit different the vehicle can be different the bridge I went over might be different sometimes I'm alone sometimes I have a passenger with me but it's always pretty much the same thing... the most traumatizing dreaming incident that I've had concerning drowning was when I made it to the surface I got out of the car I made my way to the ranger station and I saw that my whole family was there and I thought yay f?&#k, okay they know that I was missing and I wave at them and no one waves back not even the ranger acknowledges me and then I look and notice that the ranger is talking to my family and mouth something and he says I'm sorry but she didn't survive then I look at my hands and look at myself and I realize that I'm actually dead and I didn't make it out of the car that time I woke up crying and that was probably one that makes the torment list .

[childhood-number]

i had back to back nightmares all night last night

at worst i was kidnapped by white supremacists

this is…..not the first time ive had nights like that, but the first in a while, since the break up i think. in august i had dreams i was being stabbed thru the chest regularly. ive been tracking my dreams more often since then, tho they have largely been few and far between. i lose my dreamworld in the worst of depressive cycles. the places i go now are all new landscapes; i havent been back to familiar ground in many months, perhaps since 2020 or earlier, when everything began decomposing.

im becoming more intimate w my trauma, how it may have affected this person i still hold so dear, how it has eaten thru my bones and shows up in my sleep. i am feeling less like i live in hell now that i have gone so far to hospitalize myself and get the meds i need, and i can still feel a monster somewhere in an outside corner.

in therapy today i named my SI part as a snake. it feels so similar to my sexual self who i loved so dearly, and who is flaking and so wounded deep within me now. much like that part, this snake also feels deviant and precious and delightful in the way it curls and coils and demands and denies and claims. i love this part for these elements, and the way it is trying to care for me, and the way that it demands i write and write loudly. it is almost flamboyant, it wants to show off my living by detailing its relationship to dying, death’s relationship to race and sex and intimacy. it knows intimately that i am decadent and lush and tender and exacting in ways that can be thrilling. it wants me to write the pain. as i describe it i wonder if it is one part or two.

i can hear someone practicing trumpet out my window, in the direction of the trains. i miss my friend so badly. from some wrecks no planks float. i have to write even if we never speak again.

[wumblr]

All of the allegorical chapter intros from Warped Passages

Entryway Passages: Demystifying Dimensions

“Ike, I’m not so sure about this story I’m writing. I’m considering adding more dimensions. What do you think of that idea?

“Athena, your big brother knows very little about fixing stories. But odds are it won’t hurt to add new dimensions. Do you plan to add new characters, or flesh out your current ones some more?”

“Neither; that’s not what I meant. I plan to introduce new dimensions--as in new dimensions of space.”

“You’re kidding, right? You’re going to write about alternative realities--like places where people have alternative spiritual experiences or where they go when they die, or when they have near-death experiences?* I didn’t think you went in for that sort of thing.”

“Come on, Ike. You know I don’t. I’m talking about different spatial dimensions--not different spiritual planes!”

“But how can different spatial dimensions change anything? Why would using paper with different dimensions--11″ x 8″ instead of 12″ x 9″, for example--make any difference at all?”

“Stop teasing. That’s not what I’m talking about either. I’m really planning to introduce new dimensions of space, just like the dimensions we see, but along entirely new directions.”

“Dimensions we don’t see? I thought three dimensions is all there are.”

“Hang on, Ike. We’ll soon see about that.”

*Questions I’ve actually been asked.

Restricted Passages: Rolled-up Extra Dimensions

Athena awoke with a start. The previous day she had read Alice in Wonderland and Flatland in order to seek some inspiration about dimensions. But that night she had the strangest dream, which, when fully conscious, she recognized as the result of having read the two books on the same day.*

Athena dreamed she had turned into Alice, slipped into a rabbit hole, and met the resident Rabbit, who had pushed her out into an unfamiliar world. Athena had thought it a rather rude way to convey a guest. Even so, she had eagerly looked forward to the upcoming adventure in Wonderland.

Athena was in for a disappointment, however. The resident Rabbit, who was fond of puns, had sent her instead to OneDLand, a strange, not so wonderful, one-dimensional world. Athena looked around--or, I should say, to her left and right--and discovered that all she could see were two points--one to her left and another to her right (but in a prettier color, she thought).

In OneDLand, all the one-dimensional people with their one-dimensional possessions were lined up along this single dimension like long, thin beads strung out along a thread. But even with her limited purview, Athena knew there must be more to OneDLand than met her eyes because of the outrageous din that met her ears. A Red Queen was well hidden behind a dot, but Athena couldn’t miss her strident yells: “This is the most ridiculous chess game I have ever seen! I can’t move any pieces, not even to castle!” Athena was relieved when she realized her one-dimensional existence shielded her from the wrath of the Red Queen.

But Athena’s cozy universe did not last long. Slipping through a gap in ONeDLand, she returned to the dreamworld’s rabbit hole, which had an elevator that could take her to hypothetical, other dimensional universes. Almost immediately, the Rabbit announced, “Next stop: TwoDLand--a two-dimensional world.” Athena didn’t think “TwoDLand” a very nice name, but she cautiously entered all the same.

Athena needn’t have been so hesitant. Almost everything in TwoDLand looked the same as in OneDLand. SHe did notice one difference--a vial labeled “Drink me.” Bored with one dimension, Athena promptly obeyed. She quickly shrank to a tiny size, and as she became smaller, a second dimension came into view. This second dimension was not very big--it was wrapped around in a fairly small circle. Her surroundings now resembled the surface of an extremely long tube. A Dodo was racing around the circular dimension, but he wanted to stop. So he kindly offered Athena, who looked rather hungry, some cake.

When Athena ate a morsel of the Dodo’s dreamcake, she started to grow. After only a few bites (she was quite sure of this, as she was still rather hungry), the cake very nearly disappeared; all that remained was a very tiny crumb. At least Athena thought there was a crumb, but she could see it only when she squinted very hard. And the cake wasn’t the only thing that had vanished from view: when Athena returned to her usual size, the entire second dimension had disappeared.

She thought to herself, “TwoDLand is very yodd indeed. I’d best be getting home.” Her return journey was not without further adventures, but those will be kept for another time.

*Or perhaps this story is a result of my having begun my education at the perhaps questionably named Lewis Carroll School, P.S. 179, in Queens. 

Exclusive Passages: Branes, Braneworlds, and the Bulk

Unlike the studious Athena, Ike rarely read any books. He generally preferred playing with games, gadgets, and cars. But Ike hated driving in Boston, where the drivers were reckless, the roads were badly signposted, and the highways were invariably under construction. Ike always ended up stuck in traffic, which he found especially frustrating when he could see a nearly empty freeway overhead. Though the empty road would be tempting, Ike would have no way to quickly reach it since, unlike Athena’s owls*, he couldn’t fly. For Ike trapped on slow roads in Boston, the third dimension was no use at all. 

[*nb: owls are mentioned in the chapter body:]

When you peg someone as one-dimensional, you actually have something rather specific in mind: you mean that the person only has a single interest. For example, Sam, who does nothing but sit at home watching sports, can be described with just one piece of information. If you felt so inclined, you could picture this information with a one-dimensional graph: Sam’s proclivity to watch sports, for example. In drawing this graph you need to specify your units so that someone else can udnerstand what the distance along this single axis means, such as the number of hours Sam spends per week watching sports on TV. (Fortunately, Sam won’t be insulted by this example; he is not among the multidimensional readers of this book.)

When we describe most people, however, we usually assign them more than one, or even three, characteristics. Athena is an eleven-year-old who reads avidly, excels at math, keeps abreast of current events, and raises pet owls. You might want to plot this too (though why, exactly, I’m not really sure). In that case, Athena would have to be plotted a s point in a five-dimensional space with axes corresponding to age, number of books read per week, average math test score, number of minutes spent reading the newspaper per day, and nubmer of owls she owns. However, I’m having trouble drawing such a graph.

“Hey, Athena, is that Casablanca you’re watching?”

“Sure is. Want to join me? This is such a great scene.”

You must remember this, A kiss is just a kiss, A sigh is just a sigh, The fundamental things apply as time goes by.

“Hang on, Ike. Don’t you think that last line’s a little weird? It’s supposed to be so romantic, but it almost sounds as if it’s about physics.”

“Athena, if you think that’s strange, you’ve got to hear the opening verse of the original:”

This day and age we’re living in, Give cause for apprehension, With speed and new invention, And things like fourth dimension, Yet we get a trifle weary, With Mr. Einstein’s theory...

“Ike, you don’t really expect me to believe that, do you? Next thing I know you’ll tell me Rick and Ilsa escape into the seventh dimension! Why don’t we forget I ever said anything and just sit back and watch the movie?”

[nb: actually true]

Relativity: The Evolution of Einstein’s Gravity

Icarus (Ike) Rushmore II couldn’t wait to show Dieter his new Porsche. But as proud as he was of his car, he was even more excited about his Global Positioning System (GPS) that he had recently designed and installed himself.

Ike wanted to impress Dieter, so he convinced his friend to drive with him to the local track. They got in the car, Ike programmed in their destination, and the two of them set off. But to Ike’s chagrin, they ended up in the wrong place--the GPS system didn’t work nearly as well as he had thought it would. Dieter’s first thought was that Ike must have made some ridiculous error, like confusing meters and feet. But Ike didn’t believe he could have made such a stupid mistake, and he bet Dieter that wasn’t the problem.

The next day, Ike and Dieter did some troubleshooting. But to their dismay, when they went for a drive, the GPS was even worse than before. Ike and Dieter searched again for the problem and finally, after a frustrating week, Dieter had an epiphany. He did a quick calculation and made the startling discovery that without accounting for general relativity, the GPS system would build up errors at the rate of more than 10 km per day. Ike didn’t think his Porsche was fast enough to warrant relativistic calculations, but Dieter explained that the GPS signals--not the car--travel at the speed of light. Dieter modified the software to account for the changing gravitational field the GPS signals had to pass through. .Ike’s system then worked as well as the readily available commercial variety. Relieved, Ike and Dieter began to plan a road trip.

Quantum Mechanics: Principled Uncertainty, the Principal Uncertainties, and the Uncertainty Principle

Ike wondered whether Athena was making him watch too many movies or Dieter was talking too much about physics. But whatever the reason, the previous night Ike dreamed he met a quantum detective. Dressed in a fedora, a trench coat, and with a stone-faced expression, the dream detective spoke:

“I knew nothing about her except her name, and that she was standing there before me. But from the moment I set eyes on her I knew Electra* would be trouble. When I asked her where she came from, she refused to say. The room had two entrances, and she must have come through one. But Electra whispered hoarsely, ‘Mister, forget it. I’ll never tell you which.’

“Although I saw that she was shaking, I tried to pin this lady down. But Electra paced frenetically when I started to approach. She begged me to come no closer. Seeing she was agitated, I kept away. I was no stranger to uncertainty, but this time it had me beat. It looked like uncertainty was going to stick around here for a while.”

*The name refers to the electron, not the character in Greek mythology.

The Standard Model of Particle Physics: Matter’s Most Basic Known Structure

Of all the stories she had read, Athena was most thoroughly perplexed by Hans Christian Andersen’s “The Princess and the Pea.” The story tells of a Prince who searched unsuccessfully for a suitable princess to wed. After he had searched in vain for weeks, a potential princess arrived by chance at his palace, seeking shelter from a storm. This soggy visitor thereby became the unwitting subject of the Queen’s litmus test for princesses.

The Queen prepared a bed, which she piled high with mattresses and eiderdown quilts. At the very bottom of the pile she placed a solitary pea. That night, she showed her visitor to the carefully prepared guest room. The next morning, the princess (as indeed she proved herself to be) complained that she had not been able to sleep at all. She had tossed and turned the whole night, and found she had actually turned black and blue--all because of the uncomfortable pea. The Queen and Prince were convinced that their visitor was truly of royal blood, for who else could be so delicate?

Athena turned the story round and round in her head. She thought it fairly ridiculous, even the most sensitive of princesses, would ever have discovered the pea by lying passively on top of the pile of mattresses. After many days’ deliberation, Athena found a plausible interpretation, which she rushed to tell her brother.

She rejected the common interpretation that the princess proved her royal nature by demonstrating delicacy and refinement with her sensitivity to even something as minor as a pea under a pile of mattresses. She offered an alternative explanation.

Athena suggested that when the Queen went away and left the princess alone in the room, the princess threw decorum to the wind and gave vent to her boisterous youthful nature. The princess ran around and jumped up and down on her bed until she was exhausted, and only then lay down to try to sleep. Through her rambunctiousness, the princess compressed the mattresses so much that for a brief moment the pea stuck out like a sore thumb and gave her a small bruise. Athena thought this princess was still rather impressive, but found her revisionist interpretation much more satisfactory.

Experimental Interlude: Verifying the Standard Model

Ike once again dreamed he met the quantum detective. This time, the sleuth knew what he was after--and he had a pretty good idea where it should be. All he had to do was wait--sooner or later, if he wasn’t mistaken, his quarry would appear.

Symmetry: The Essential Organizing Principle

Athena uncaged three of her owls and let them fly around. Unfortunately for Ike, he had left the top of his convertible down that day and the curious owls flew right in. The most mischievous of the owls pecked at the car’s interior and ended up tearing it a little.

When Ike saw the damage, he stormed into Athena’s room and demanded that she watch her owls more carefully in the future. Athena protested that her owls were almost all well-behaved and she need only keep an eye on the bad one. But by that time the owls were back in their cages, and neither Ike nor Athena could identify which one was guilty.

The Origin of Elementary Particle Masses: Spontaneous Symmetry Breaking and the Higgs Mechanism

The stricter enforcement of speed limits made long-distance driving a nightmare for Icarus III. He longed to race as fast as he pleased, but police pulled him over nearly every half-mile. The cops never bothered with dull, neutral cars, but harassed only the lively, turbo-charged vehicles, like his own.

Ike resigned himself to driving only short distances, since that way he could avoid the police altogether. Within the half-mile-wide region around where he started, police never interfered and he could always drive impressively fast. Though the Porsche engine’s force was unknown outside his neighborhood, closer to home it became legendary.

Scaling and Grand Unification: Relating Interactions at Different Lengths and Energies

Athena often felt like she was the last to be told anything interesting. She didn’t even hear about Ike’s adventures with his car until after he had owned it for over a month. And she didn’t learn them from him directly--she learned about them from a friend of hers who had heard about them from Dieter’s cousin’s brother, who had learned about them from Dieter’s cousin, who had heard about them from Dieter.

Through this indirect route, Athena was told Ike’s remark, “The influence of forces depends on where you are.” Ike’s uncharacteristic pronouncement completely mystified Athena until she realized that the message must have been distorted along the way. After thinking about it for a while, she decided that Ike’s real remark must have been, “The performance of Porsches depends on the model of the car.”

The Hierarchy Problem: The Only Effective Trickle-Down Theory

Ike Rushmore III came to an ignominious end when he drove his resplendent new Porsche into a lamppost.  He was nonetheless happy in Heaven, where he could play games all the time. He was a gambling man at heart.

One day, God Himself invited Ike to a rather strange game. God told him to write down a sixteen-digit number. God would roll the heavenly isocahedral die. Unlike a normal, cubic die with six sides, this die had twenty sides, with the digits 0 through 9 written twice. God explained that He would throw this die sixteen times and construct a sixteen-digit number by listing the results, one after the other. If God and Ike came up with the same enormous number--that is, if all the digits matched in the correct order--God would win. If the numbers weren’t exactly the same--that is, if any of the digits failed to match--Ike would defeat God.

God began to roll. The first side that came up was the number 4. This agreed with the first digit of Ike’s number, which was 4,715,031,495,526,312. Ike was surprised when God rolled correctly, since the odds were only one in ten. Nevertheless, he was pretty sure the second or third number would be wrong; the odds of God’s rolling both numbers correctly in succession was only one in a hundred.

God threw the first die for a second and then a third time. He rolled a 7 and then a 1, which were also correct. He kept rolling until, to Ike’s astonishment, He had rolled all sixteen digits correctly. The chances of this happening randomly were only 1 in 10,000,000,000,000,000. How could God have won?

Ike was a bit angry (one can’t get very angry in Heaven) and asked how something so ridiculously unlikely could have happened. God sagely replied, “I am the only one who could expect to win, since I am both omniscient and omnipotent. Howeer, you must have heard, I do not like to play dice.”

And with that, GAMBLING FORBIDDEN was posted on a cloud. Ike was furious (of course, only a little). Not only had he lost the game, but he’d also lost the right to gamble.

Supersymmetry: A Leap Beyond the Standard Model

When Icarus first arrived in Heaven, he was directed to an orientation seminar where the authorities explained the local rules. To his surprise, he learned that right-wing religious groups were essentially correct, and family values were indeed a cornerstone of his new environment. The authorities had long ago established and traditional family structure premised on the separation of generations and the stability of marriages; a top would always marry a bottom, a charmer would always align with a strange bird, and an uptown girl would always marry a downtown cool cat. Everyone, including Ike, was satisfied with the arrangement.

But Ike later learned that the social structure in Heaven had not always been so secure. Originally, dangerous energetic infiltrators had threatened the hierarchical foundation of society. In Heaven, however, most problems can be solved. God had sent everyone a personal guardian angel, and the angels and their charges had heroically worked together to avert the threat to the hierarchy and preserve the ordered society that Ike could now enjoy.

Even so, Heaven was not entirely safe. The angels turned out to be free agents, with no contract binding them to a single generation. The fickle angels, who had so bravely rescued the hierarchy, now threatened to destroy Heaven’s family values. Ike was appalled. Despite Heaven’s well-advertised attractions, he was finding it a surprisingly stressful place.

Allegro (Ma Non Troppo) Passage for Strings

Fast forward a millennium.

Icarus Rushmore XLII was trying out his new Alicxvr Device, Model 6.3, that he had recently purchased from the Spacernet. (Icarus III’s interest in speed and gadgets had apparently been passed down through many generations.) The Alicxvr was designed to let the user view things of any size, from the very small to the very large. Ike was pretty sure that most of his friends who had purchased the Alicxvr Device would first try the large settings, of many megaparsecs, so they could see into outer space beyond the known universe. But Ike thought, “I know just as little about what is happening at extremely tiny distances,” and decided to investigate a miniscule scale instead.

However, Ike was an impatient sort. He couldn’t be bothered to read the extensive instruction manual accompanying his device and instead decided to plunge right in. Blithely ignoring the red indicator overlapping the smallest sizes, he adjusted his dial to the 10 -33 cm setting and pressed the button labeled “Go.”

To his horror, he found himself space-sick in a wildly oscilllating, precipitous landscape filled with strings. Space was no longer the smooth, anonymous background he was accustomed to. Instead it was jiggling rapidly in places, heading into pointy sections in others, or wandering off into loops that pinched off or later rejoined the surface. Ike fumbled desperately for the “Stop” button and only just managed to press it in time to return to normal with his senses intact.

After recovering his stability, Ike decided he probably should have read the manual after all. He turned to the “Warning” section and read: “Your new Alicxvr Device Model 6.3 works only for sizes larger than 10 -33 cm. We have not yet incorporated the latest string theory developments, whose predictions physicist and mathematicians connected to the physical world only last year.”

Ike was very disappointed when he realized that only the newer Model 7.0 included the latest results. But Ike then caught up with the most recent string theory developments, souped up his Alicxvr, and never got space-sick again.

Supporting Passages: Brane Development

Ike Rushmore XLII decided to dive down once again to the miniscule Planck scale. Happily, his souped-up Alicxvr worked perfectly and he smoothly arrived in a ten-dimensional universe filled with strings. Eager to explore his new environment, Ike cranked up the hyperdrive attachment he had purchased from Gbay. He watched with fascination as strings collided and tangled in mesmerizing ways.

Although Ike worried that the Alicxvr might break down, he was curious to learn more about this novel world. So he increased the pressure on the hyperdrive lever. At first strings collided together even more frequently. But when he cranked up the lever still more, he entered a new, completely unrecognizable environment. Ike couldn’t even tell whether spacetime was intact. But he kept cranking up the hyperdrive, and, strangely enough, emerged unscathed.*

However, his surroundings were now quite different. Ike was no longer in the ten-dimensional universe he had started off in. He was instead in an eleven-dimensional universe filled with particles and branes. And, odd as it seemed, nothing in this new universe interacted very much. When Ike looked back at his controls, he discovered the hyperdrive lever had mysteriously reset to low. Confused and rather exasperated, Ike cranked up the lever once again, only to find himself back where he started. When Ike checked thee controls, he discovered that the hyperdrive lever was once again back at low.

Ike thought his Alicxvr was probably malfunctioning. But when he checked his up-to-date manual he discovered that his device was operating perfectly--high hyperdrive in ten-dimensional string theory was the same as low hyperdrive in an alternate eleven-dimensional world. And vice versa.

The manual didn’t say what should happen when the hyperdrive wasn’t very low or very high, so Ike entered the spacernet and put himself on the wait-list for an improved version that would solve the problem. But the Alicxvr designers promised only that the release date would be some time within the millennium.

*Actually, according to the duality we learn about in this chapter, even the probes used to study a given version of string theory change character when the coupling becomes strong. So if Ike really was part of the string world, he, too, would change.

Bustling Passages: Braneworlds

Icarus III was becoming increasingly disillusioned with Heaven. He had expected it to be a liberal, forgiving environment. But instead, gambling was prohibited, metal silverware was forbidden, and smoking was no longer allowed. The most restrictive constraint of all was that Heaven was stuck on a Heavenbrane; its residents were forbidden to travel into the fifth dimension.

Everyone on the Heavenbrane knew about the fifth dimension and the existence of other branes. In fact, the righteous Heavenbraners often whispered about the unsavory characters sequestered on a Jailbrane not too far away. However, the Jailbraners couldn’t hear any of the slander that Heavenbraners spread about them, so all remained peaceful in the bulk and on the branes.

Sparsely Populated Passages: Multiverses and Sequestering

Despite its explicit prohibition on the Heavenbrane, Icarus III ultimately returned to gambling. After ignoring repeated reprimands, he was sentenced to confinement on the Jailbrane, a distant brane separated from the Heavenbrane along a fifth dimension. Even after he was sequestered on the Jailbrane, Ike doggedly tried to contact his former buddies. But the distance between their two branes made communication difficult. He was reduced to flagging down passing bulk mail carriers, many of whom ignored his entreaties altogether. The few who did stop always conveyed his messages to the Heavenbrane, but at a frustratingly leisurely pace.

Meanwhile, back on the Heavenbrane, disaster loomed. The guardian angels, who had so bravely rescued the hierarchy, had no respect for the other residents’ family values and were on the verge of creating intergenerational instability. Heaven’s fallen angels considered all pairings acceptable and encouraged everyone to mix with a trophy partner from another generation.

When Ike learned of the threat, he was aghast and he resolved to redeem the situation. Ike realized that by using the slow and deliberate manner with which he was constrained to communicate with the Heavenbrane, he could judiciously feed the massive egos of the unruly angels living there. Thanks to Ike’s helpful intervention, the angels stopped threatening the social order. Although Icarus III still had to serve his sentence, the relieved residents on the Heavenbrane honored him forevermore in urban myth.

Leaky Passages: Fingerprints of Extra Dimensions

Athena had to admit that she missed Ike. Even though she had often found him annoying, she was pretty lonely without him. She was looking forward to spending time with K. Square, an exchange student who was planning to visit. But she was appalled by the closed-mindedness of her neighbors, who were all apprehensive about K. Square’s arrival. It didn’t matter that he spoke the same language and behaved the same way as everyone else. In the current climate, K. Square’s foreign origin alone was enough to make them wary.

When Athena asked her neighbors why they were so anxious, they replied “What if he sends for his heavier relatives? What if they’re not so well behaved as he is and stick to their foreign laws? And when they all arrive together, what will happen then?”

Unfortunately, Athena heightened their suspicions by telling them that K. Square and his relatives couldn’t possibly stay long in any case, since they were all very unstable and the K. Square family could visit only during the commotion of energetic gatherings. Recognizing her unfortunate choice of words, Athena reassuringly added that the foreigners would stick to local laws during their brief and exciting visits. Convinced, her neighbors then joined her in welcoming the K. Square clan.

Voluminous Passages: Large Extra Dimensions

Now that K. Square’s visit was over, Athena spent a lot of time at the local Internet cafe. She was exhilarated by her recent discovery of some mysterious new websites, the most intriguing of which was xxx.socloseandyetsofar.al. Athena suspected that these suggestive sites were a consequence of the recent AOB (America On Brane)/Spacetime Warner multimedia merger, but she had to go home before she had time to investigate.

When Athena arrived at her house she rushed to her computer, where she once again sought the exotic hyperlinks that had been so readily accessible at the Internet cafe. To her frustration, however, CyberNanny prevented her from reaching the forbidden dimensionally enhanced sites.* But by cloaking her identity with her secure alias, Mentor, Athena vanquished her cybercensor and succeeded in finally returning to the mysterious hyperlinks.

Athena secretly hoped that K. Square had sent her a message that was hidden in a webpage. But the sites were not easy to understand, and she managed to pick up only a few potentially meaningful signals. She resolved to study their content some more and hoped the merger--unlike the other merger with a similar name--would last long enough for her to figure them out.

*Physicists post their papers on a website that begins with “xxx”: check out xxx.lanl.gov. Internet filters have occasionally forbidden access to this site as well.

Warped Passage: A Solution to the Hierarchy Problem

Athena awoke with a start. She had just revisited her recurring dream, which had again begun with her entering the dreamworld’s rabbit hole. In this episode, when the Rabbit announced, “Next stop, TwoDLand,” Athena ignored him and waited to hear the choices that remained.

At the three-spatial-dimensional stop, the Rabbit announced “If you lived here, you’d be home by now.” But he refused to open the doors, despite Athena’s pleas that she did indeed live there and very much wanted to return home.

At the next stop, uniformed six-dimensioners tried to enter. But the Rabbit took one look at their inordinately large girth and abruptly closed the doors, saying that they couldn’t possibly fit. They quickly departed once the Rabbit threatened to cut them down to size.*

The elevator continued on its extraordinary journey. When it stopped again, the Rabbit announced, “Warped Geometry--a five-dimensional world.”** He gently pushed Athena towards the door, advising her, “Enter the funhouse mirror--it will take you home.”

Since the Rabbit had mentioned a fifth dimension, Athena found this highly unlikely. But she didn’t have any choice but to enter and hope the tricky Rabbit was right.

*As we saw in Chapter 18, extra dimensions can be uniform, large, and flat. The Rabbit is skeptical about this idea. **This counting includes a dimension of time.

The Warped Annontated “Alice” ¹

Athena stepped out of the dreamworld’s elevator into the warped five-dimensional world and was astonished to see only three spatial dimensions. Was the Rabbit playing games, pretending to take her to a world with four spatial dimensions when in fact there were only three? What a funny way to travel to what looked like an ordinary world!²

With great gallantry, a local received the puzzled new arrival. “Welcome to Branesville,³  our glorious capital. Permit me to show you around.” Athena, who was tired and confused, blurted out, “Branesville doesn’t look all that special. Even the mayor looks completely normal,” although she had to confess, she wasn’t entirely sure as she had never seen a mayor before.

The mayor to whom Athena referred had arrived accompanied by the Cheshire Fat Cat, his Chief Advisor. The Cat’s job was keeping tabs on everything in the city, which was greatly facilitated by his skill at catching people unawares--especially surprising in lgith of the Cat’s enormous bulk. The Cat loved to explain that he owed this skill to his ability to disappear into the bulk, but no one ever understood what he meant.⁴

The Cat materialized next to Athena and asked if she would like to accompany him as he made his rounds. He warned her tha she had better be comfortable ith bulk, to which Athena eagerly responded that her favorite uncle was in fact very, very fat. The Cat looked skeptical, but agreed to take her along. He offered Athena cream cake with butter frosting, in which she happily indulged. And off they went.

Athena wondered what it was she’d eaten. She now appeared to be on a four-dimensional slice of a five-dimensional world, and as far as she could tell, she was no thicker than this thin four-dimensional slice. She exclaimed, “I am like my paper doll! But whereas Dolly has two spatial dimensions in a three-dimensional world, I have three spatial dimensions in a four-dimensional world.

The Cat grinned sagely and explained, “You are now conscious of what I like to call The Bulk. You are still in Branesville, but will be leaving (and growing) momentarily. Branesville is in reality part of a five-dimensional universe, but the fifth dimension is warped so discreetly that Branesville residents are completely unaware of its existence. They have no idea that Branesville is the border of a five-dimensional state. You too mistakenly concluded on your arrival that there are only three spatial dimensions. The new Athena, untethered from the brane, is free to travel out into the fifth dimension. May I suggest for our destination another village called Weakbrane, at the other edge of the five-dimensional universe?”

What a strange five-dimensional journey it turned out to be. After leaving Branesville, Athena found herself moving in another dimension, and growing as she did so.⁵  When the observant Cat noticed the confused look on Athena’s face, he reassuringly explained, “Weakbrane is close by and we will be there very soon.⁶ It’s lovely, but don’t be alarmed when you see that, like the Branesville residents you encountered, Weakbrane residents scoff at the notion of four spatial dimensions. You, who can see out into the bulk, will see a huge shadow on Branesville, ten million billion times bigger than the one with which you started. Almost everything else will seem to you and to them to be entirely normal.”

But upon her arrival in Weakbrane, Athena noticed one other thing. The four-dimensional graviton had quietly accompanied the travelers on their journey and was softly tapping on her shoulder. He touched her so extremely gently that she had barely noticed.⁷

But she couldnt’ ignore the graviton when he launched into a litany of complaints. “Weakbrane would be so exciting, were it not for the superior influence of the entrenched hierarchy. The strong, weak, and electromagnetic armed forces on the Weakbrane permit me only the most feeble strength.” The graviton whined how everywhere else he was a force to be reckoned with, especially in Branesville, which is ruled by an oligarchy with comparably strong forces.⁸  Weakbrane, where gravity was the most suppressed, was the graviton’s least favorite place.⁹ The graviton turned to Athena in hope of enlisting her in his plan to wrest power from the reigning authorities.

Athena thought she had better leave immediately and looked around for the rabbit hole, but couldn’t find it. She did find a white rabbit, whom she expected to be an efficient guide. But the Weakbrane rabbit had an alarmingly sluggish gait, and kept repeating how happy he was that his date would wait.¹⁰ Athena realized that this rabbit wasn’t going anywhere, so she found a more anxious rabbit she could follow, and worked her way back home. Once she understood the physics implications, Athena enjoyed her dream enormously--though it should be noted that she never again ate cream cake.

¹ This title borrows from Martin Gardner’s delightful Annotated Alice, in which he explains the wordplay, math riddles, and references in Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland. ² The brane itself is large and flat and has only three spatial dimensions. Only gravity makes contact with the additional dimension. Remember that the five-dimensional space has four spatial dimensions (and one of time), whereas the brane has three spatial dimensions. I’ll still call time the fourth dimension, and I’ll call the additional dimension the fifth. ³ Branesville is the Gravitybrane. ⁴ The Fat Cat, unlike Branesville residents, is not confined to the brane. ⁵ Everything is bigger and lighter near the Weakbrane. Athena’s shadow over Branesville grew as she got closer to the Weakbrane and further away from the Gravitybrane. ⁶ The fifth dimension does not have to be very big in order to solve the hierarchy problem. ⁷ Gravity is feeble on the Weakbrane, where the graviton’s probability function is so small. ⁸ On the Gravitybrane, gravity is no weaker than the other forces. ⁹ The petulant graviton is complaining that on the Weakbrane, gravity is much weaker than the electromagnetic, weak, and strong forces. Gravity would be much stronger (and have a strength closer to that of the other forces) closer to the Gravitybrane. ¹⁰ Things are bigger and time is slower on the Weakbrane.  The rabbit’s laxness is accounted for by rescaling time. 

Profound Passage: An Infinite Extra Dimension

Athena woke up with a start. Her recurring dream had once again taken her down the rabbit hole. This time, however, she asked the rabbit to take her straight back to the warped five-dimensional world. Athena arrived back in Branesville (or so she thought). The Cat soon appeared, and she eagerly turned to him, anticipating her dream cake and a delightful excursion to the Weakbrane. She was sorely disappointed when the Cat told her there was no such thing as Weakbrane in this particular universe.*

Athena didn’t believe the Cat and thought there must be another brane further away. Proud of herself for understanding how, in the warped geometry, further-away branes had weaker gravity, she decided it was probably called the “Meekbrane” and asked the Cat whether she could go there.

But once again she was in for a disappointment. The Cat explained, “There is no such place. You are on the Brane; there are no others.”

“Curiouser and curiouser, thought Athena. This clearly wasn’t exactly the same space as before, since it had only a single brane. But Athena wasn’t ready to give up. “May I see for myself that there is no other brane?” she asked in her sweetest tone.

The Cat strongly advised her against it, warning, “Four-dimensional gravity on the brane is no guarantee of four-dimensional gravity in the bulk. Once I nearly lost everything but my smile there.”

Athena was a cautious girl, despite her many adventures, and she took the Cat’s warning to heart. But she often wondered what the Cat meant. What did lie beyond the Brane, and how would she ever know?

*The geomery of this chapter is warped, as in the previous ones, but now there is only a single brane--the Gravitybrane. Although this means that there is an infinite fifth dimension, this chapter will show why this is perfectly fine with the warped spacetime. 

A Reflective and Expansive Passage

Ike XLII as ready to live large. He wanted to test the Alicxvr’s ultra-high settings of many megaparsecs, with which he could explore places beyond the Galaxy and the known universe and experience distant regions no one had ever seen before.

So he was thrilled when the Alicxvr took him to distances 9, 12, and 13 billion light-years away. But his excitement diminished when he tried to go farther and his signal strength fell precipitously. When he aimed for 15 billion years, his exploration aborted completely: he no longer received any information at all. Instead, he heard, “Message 5B73: The Horizon customer you are trying to reach is beyond your calling area. If you need assistance, please contact your local long-distance operator.”

Ike couldnt’ believe his ears. It was the thirty-first century, yet his Horizon service still provided only limited coverage. When Ike tried to contact the operator, a recording said, “Please stay on the brane. Your call will be answered in the order in which it was received.” Ike suspected that the operator would never respond, and was wise enough not to wait.

Extra Dimensions: Are You In or Are You Out?

Athena’s dreams about OneDLand, branes, and five dimensions were passed down for generations. When Ike XLII heard them, he wanted to check whether there was any truth to her stories. So he took out his Alicxvr and went down to a very small scale--not so small that strings would appear, but sufficiently small to check whether there was a fifth dimension. The Alicxvr answered Ike’s question by sending him off to a five-dimensional world.

But Ike was not completely satisfied. He remembered the bizarre things that had happened earlier on when he had fooled around with the hyperdrive option. So he once again cranked up the hyperdrive lever--and once again, everything changed drastically. Ike couldn’t identify a single familiar point. He could tell only one thing: the fifth dimension had disappeared.

Ike was mystified, so he searched the spacernet to see what it could tell him about “dimensions.” He waded through numerous sites that he recognized from his more embarassing spam, but soon realized that he’d have to refine his search. When he still couldn’t find anything definitive, he conceded that he wouldn’t know the fundamental origin of dimensions any time soon. So he decided to turn his attention to time travel instead.

(In)Conclusion

Icarus Rushmore XLII used his time machine to visit the past and warn Icarus III of the disaster that awaited him should he continue driving his Porsche. Ike III was so astounded by his visitor from the future that he heeded Ike XLII’s warning. He traded in his Porsche for a Fiat and subsequently led a full, contented, and slower-paced life.

Athena was ecstatic to be reunited with her brother, and Dieter was happy to see his friend, though both of them were confused since it seemed as if Ike had never left. Athena and Dieter realized that the time travel that Ike reported to them was pure fiction. Even in dreams, the Cat never looped through time, the Rabbit never reached a stop with extra time dimensions, and the quantum detective refused to contemplate such odd behavior of time. But Athena and Dieter preferred happy endings. So they suspended disbelief and accepted Ike’s fantastic story all the same.

[rolonoise]

Shadow Warrior (1997) Review

Who wants some Wang? Over the summer I played through Shadow Warrior and all of its’ expansions using the Shadow Warrior Redux port available on Steam. It’s finally time to write about that experience.

Shadow Warrior was 3D Realms’ successor to Duke Nukem 3D. While Duke was a Hollywood badass, Shadow Warrior’s hero is an over-the-top Asian badass with callbacks to Hong Kong action films and Japanese ninja shows.

Shadow Warrior was less successful than Duke 3D, probably due to releasing so close to Quake which made it appear dated by comparison.

The Introduction I first purchased Shadow Warrior Redux last year, but I struggled to get into it. Duke Nukem is eminently accessible. Hardcore, but accessible. I’m going to spoil things now and say that I ended up loving Shadow Warrior. It’s Duke Nukem dialed up. Less accessible, more hardcore, and in the end satisfying as hell.

My first attempt at Shadow Warrior left a mixed impression. The standard shuriken weapon felt under-powered, it was hard to melee the enemies. I stuck with it; learning to use the basic weapons, find new weapons, and how beat the elite ninja with the instant death attack. The game made me git gud and after that things started to get pretty damn enjoyable. But after that I got stuck looking for a switch. So the first impression was a mixed bag. I stopped playing and took a long break from it. As I wrote earlier, I finished Shadow Warrior and every expansion over the summer. After a few months hiatus I started a new game, stuck with it and had a blast. It takes longer to get into then Duke or Doom but it is great.

The Levels Shadow Warrior has a lot of content to get through. Levels are themed around Asian city streets, rural valleys, mountain tops, temples, and isolated bases. Most levels are highly complex and key hunting is a major feature. Duke Nukem’s abstract realism is kicked up a notch, giving the sprawling levels a strange and almost dream-like quality to progression. The juxtaposition between urban realism, abstract countryside, ancient temples, high tech bases, and mystical weirdness works to create the feeling of a pleasantly bizarre adventure. It’s like stumbling through a shifting dreamworld. Sometimes levels appear to be linked with a strong connecting storyline, and other times you’ll find yourself catapulted into a bizarre new environment with no idea how you got there. Again, a strange but pleasant experience.

The levels are complex and lots of fun, but you need to keep your eyes open. There were perhaps three or four moments in the game where I felt completely lost and play ground to halt for five to ten minutes.

Gameplay I mentioned the shuriken felt under-powered earlier. That’s because the shuriken is not Shadow Warrior’s iconic weapon. High level play depends on the rocket launcher and grenade launcher. Both are satisfying and dangerous. The grenade launcher has a massive blast radius that you’ll need to get used to, and is used for clearing out rooms. The rocket launcher is for dealing large amounts of damage to single enemies. Perhaps appropriately, Shadow Warrior will put you into a kind of zen state where you end up leaping across the level blazing away with machine guns and bombs, clearing out unexplored chambers with high powered grenade launchers, blowing up tankier monsters with rockets, and finishing off the stragglers with shotguns and railgun blasts.

Generally the weapons are a lot of fun to use and when you’re in that zen state you’re in one of the best shooting experiences in FPS gaming. Story and World Shadow Warrior (1997) rides the early 80s to mid-90s wave of badly dubbed kung fu parodies and ninja shows, which were the only thing most westerners knew about China and Japan at the time. It was accused of racism when it came out and it can be hard to argue against that; but despite the puerile parodies Shadow Warriors’ approach to Asian culture at least seems to come from a place of love, even if not one of respect. The developers were clearly fans of anime and Asian action cinema, they just weren’t interested in making a serious or sensitive story line. Nor does Shadow Warrior need a serious storyline or a deep look into a new culture - it’s pure gameplay with a paper thin plot and a massive amount of penis jokes. Everyone’s mileage may vary, but I’d advise any shooter fan not to miss out on Shadow Warrior because they don’t like the faux Asian styling.

The plot is simple: you are Lo Wang, kung fu badass and former bodyguard to of the head of Zilla Corporation. Lo Wang is betrayed by Zilla. Lo Wang embarks on a quest for vengeance. Body parts fly and anime babes who don’t fit the art style respond to Lo Wang’s clumsy pick-up lines with automatic gunfire.

Sometimes Shadow Warrior slips from silliness into cringey childishness, but it’s mostly silly fun. Lo Wang is a dumb character but he’s also a really distinct character. It’s like the game as a whole.

There’s something oddly mischievous about him. He giggles with glee when the explosions start. He’s a complete wise-ass who’s having so much fun that in the end I found it hard not to get attached to him. As downright stupid as Shadow Warrior is sometimes, I couldn’t help crack a smile when using a phone caused Lo Wang to make a silly prank call.

Hello, is Big Bottom there? First name Iva. Iva Big Bottom? Heeeheeeheee!

Conclusion Shadow Warrior is an ultra-violent, grossly offensive and ridiculous load of nonsense – and I loved it.

Shadow Warrior doesn’t give a damn what you think about it. It is what it is; a hardcore experience designed by a team of weirdos with a lot of experience making FPS games. It was made in 1997 for experienced first-person shooter fans, mixing late 90s architecture with early 90s design sensibilities.

I felt genuinely sad when I finished it and all the expansions. Someday I’ll return to Shadow Warrior and re-join Lo Wang the giggling idiot ninja.

I recommend Shadow Warrior. EDIT: I did encounter a rare but recurring bug in Shadow Warrior Redux where the mouse stopped responding. The first expansion pack also has some glitchy sky textures near the end (although this might not be the port’s fault). Neither were deal breakers.

[geisha-kai]

An interview with former maiko Toshichika, who is now a barista at %Arabica in Kyoto

How did you become a maiko?

I grew up in Ibaraki prefecture and when I was in junior high school, we went to Kyoto for a field trip. During that trip, the most memorable part was seeing a maiko on the street. From that point on, I knew I wanted to become one. After junior high school, I saw an advertisement for maiko recruitment and then I immediately applied and went to Kyoto for the interview. After passing a one week probation period, the mother of the ochaya asked me to join them. I was 15 years old then.

How was life like in the okiya?

A typical okiya has two to three girls, but my okiya was a larger one with six to seven girls. The rules at okiya were very strict; we weren’t allowed to have cell phones, laptops, the internet, and of course no boy friends. Day off is only once in every three months. No salary is given. Every night we receive tips from clients, but we pass them all to the mother. We always trusted mother and didn’t question how much we earned. If we wanted to buy something, we went to the mother for money. We had to keep our hair styled for 1 week so we could only wash our hair once a week. The okiya follows a strict hierarchal relationship, and when we first join an okiya, we are assigned to an older sister by the mother, and the sister teaches us all the rules and manners. We also inherit our maiko name from the sister. For example, my sister’s name was Toshi-hana and my name was Toshi-chika.

Day in the Life

A typical day starts at 9am, and then go to practice at 10am — practice ranges from 30 min to 3 hours depending on the schedule that day. At 4pm, I will apply make-up and get dressed. Afterwards I will meet my first client at the ochaya and start my work. Usually I have two dinner appointments per night. In order to ensure our safety, there is a system called ichigen okotowari (no first timer policy), so that the new clients must be introduced by existing clients. During an engagement, it will either be done in a group or one on one. My main goal is to make the client(s) feel comfortable and happy by providing entertainment via conversation, musical performance, and dance. Being in the presence of a maiko is supposed to be similar to a fantasy; we were trained to not talk about real daily life. I tried my best to bring customers to a different dreamworld. When clients go to the toilet, I will wait right outside the toilet, so that their mental state will keep being with me and would not go back to their actual lives. It’s a whole different reality.

What was your favorite part of being a maiko?

My favorite part was learning how to wear the kimono (Yuka-chan will teach us how to wear a kimono at the end of this post)! I also had the opportunity to meet important people regularly, and learning the social skills was a great experience.

What was the most difficult part?

There are many things to learn and sometimes it was a little overwhelming. I had to learn Kyoto dialect, how to sit properly and move with grace, maiko/geiko hospitality customs, traditional dance (odori), Japanese guitar (shamisen), Japanese drum (tsuzumi), singing, calligraphy, and tea ceremony. The lessons and work itself was not physically straining but it did take a toll on my mental well-being.

Most embarrassing moment?

One time, I was supposed to perform at a dancing event and each maiko was supposed to put a signed handkerchief inside their kimono and throw it to the audience. When the handkerchief is folded correctly, it flies beautifully like a paper airplane. I was running really late so I had to quickly stuff it inside my kimono. At the finale, I threw my handkerchief into the audience but it went down without flying and landed right next to me, which looked really stupid. Later, I got scolded very badly by the mother (laughs).

Has anyone ever fallen in love with their clients?

The clients are typically much older than us so we look at them like a father figure, but there were times when the clients brought their sons, and the sons fell in love with us.

Why didn’t you become a geiko and became a barista instead?

After 5 years of being a maiko, I felt that I wanted to see a different world. Since I spent most of my teenage years being a maiko, I felt ready to move on. On my day off during my maiko years, I loved going to cafes, and seeing the process of making latte art was such a magical experience for me. After retiring from being a maiko, I went back to my hometown and started working for a cafe. But because I missed Kyoto so much, I moved back and worked at another cafe. One day, I participated in a latte art class at % Arabica and Junichi asked if I was interested in working for % Arabica, so I gladly accepted the offer!

Text by %Arabica, more on their website!

[protectorsofthewood]

The Red Jewel - Episode 4

THE RED JEWEL

Episode 4

Written By John KixMiller

© 2020 All Rights Reserved

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THE VEGETABLE STONE

Tiny lay there silently while the tears dried on Abby’s face. “We’ll get through this together,” said Abby softly. She held Tiny’s hand. In seconds Tiny fell asleep.

Abby tried to remember everything she could about Tiny. A few things stood out in her mind. For at least a year Abby had been aware that Tiny had bonded with her in a way that was difficult to understand.

She can see so vividly, so painfully, that our world is badly messed up. The adults are failing in their most basic job. Tiny somehow counts on me to make it okay. But what can I do? And then there’s this relationship with the Good Fairy and her daughter Emily. Tiny talks to them, and tells us what they say. Tiny seems to think it’s her job to let us know what the Good Fairy feels and thinks, her messages to this fallen world. Come to think of it, there’s a similarity there with how the mapstick talks to me. A strong similarity. Tiny and I have these important personalities living inside us. They seem to be our friends! Is it just my imagination, or do they use us to help the world in some way, even if its just a little bit?

Abby remembered every word of her conversation with Tiny. She felt that Tiny was beyond her, speaking from some deeper level of human experience. And yet Abby could identify with everything Tiny said. Her words only seemed irrational. On closer examination, they were full of insight about their lives, their vulnerabilities, and even the recent conversation between her mother and Dr. Bear, a discussion Tiny probably couldn’t even hear. What did all this add up to?

Same thing as before. Tiny counts on me, literally counts on me, to make the world okay! She gives me a responsibility way beyond my strength! How does that song of Wendy’s go?

All I have left is the best I can do It’ll take all we’ve got to carry us through Then Abby remembered every word Dr. Bear had said. It appeared that the doctor knew both more and less than she let on. On the one hand, she knew that one basic symptom of this disease was dreaming while awake. Apparently something gets blurred between the dreamworld and the waking world. Abby could hear Dr. Bear trying to convey the seriousness of this symptom without scaring Glenda.

Dr. Bear knows that I can probably handle this better than Glenda. But Dr. Bear can’t handle this herself. I can see how that hospital might appear to a doctor. Something chaotic, something they never saw before. And once the patient is left alone, the boundaries begin to disappear. So… the doctors really don’t know what to do. Could this breakdown have lasting effects, leave people broken and lost? Surely the doctors are very worried, not to mention that some adults might get this disease. Even I might get it! I really need to talk to Wendy. I absolutely must. Sometimes I feel like I have this disease already.

As the time went by, Abby could hardly keep her eyes open. Tiny had been sleeping quietly, but suddenly began to thrash around. Abby felt her forehead, and was shocked by the heat. She found a washcloth and soaked it in cool water, wrung out the excess water, and placed it on Tiny’s forehead. Tiny continued to roll back and forth, mumbling and sweating. Abby filled a glass of cold water, and waited for an opportunity to help Tiny drink.

Out of the east window a faint light was drifting into the room, the first sign of morning. The washcloth on Tiny’s forehead was no longer cool. Abby soaked it again, and used it to wipe the sweat from Tiny’s head and neck.

She really needs a cool bath. But I’d rather have Glenda do that. Perhaps I’ll wake her.

Tiny sat up, her pajamas drenched in sweat. She seemed full of energy, but half-asleep. She stared at nothing. Abby hugged her and said, “I’m here. It’s okay.” But Tiny did not seem to hear her. Her head turned this way and that. “Don’t do that!” she said to no one in particular. Abby hugged her again, but Tiny shrugged her off. She was becoming more agitated, and Abby went to the living room and woke up Glenda.

“I think I’m going to need your help. Tiny needs a cool bath, a bowl of that soup, and some hugs. Oh, where are those pills that keep fever down?”

“Oh my God, it���s morning already.” Glenda jumped up and entered the bedroom. “Tiny, its me. I’m here.” She hugged Tiny, who continued to thrash around. Glenda glanced at Abby. “She’s so hot!” Tiny began to cry, and yelled “Stop! Stop!” But she didn’t seem to be talking to Glenda. “Please stop! Please!” Glenda was in tears.

“I’ll run a cool bath,” Abby told her. Glenda led Tiny to the bathroom and stripped off her wet pajamas. The cool water seemed to soothe her. Glenda brought her back to bed in a huge bath towel. Tiny lay down quietly. The morning sun was shining through the window.

Glenda took her temperature. “It’s over 104 degrees! What are we going to do? Has it been like this all night?”

“No, not at all. But I’m worried. I haven’t been able to feed her. I haven’t found a good moment to help her drink. When she wakes she keeps moving around, and doesn’t hear what I say.”

“Let me try to give her these pills, and you hold a glass for her.”

But Tiny was now sound asleep. “I think I’ll wait a bit,” said Glenda. “We’ll get her to drink as soon as she begins to wake. Let’s take this moment to talk. What are we going to do? This is not good.”

Glenda rose and paced around the room, looking out the windows. “I could call Dr. Bear again. But what can she do?” Glenda turned back to Abby. “We’ve got to give her these medications and get her to drink. Let’s try.”

Glenda hugged her and raised her to a sitting position. Abby put the glass to her lips and poured a bit of water. It spilled down Tiny’s chin. Abby tried again and Tiny swallowed, and swallowed again. Her eyes opened. “Here Tiny,” Glenda said. “Swallow these.” She popped two pills in Tiny’s mouth, and Abby put the glass to her lips. Tiny swallowed. Then she shook Glenda off and lay back down. They let her sleep.

Glenda made two cups of coffee. They sat together, feeling the coffee waking them up. “I have to admit,” Abby told her, “I’m not sure how to handle this. Dr. Bear certainly gave us a picture of the situation, and she had good advice… but still, they don’t even know what this disease is. It’s a brand new experience. What more can she say?”

Glenda nodded. “Of course, we’ll get Tiny to drink a few swallows of soup. We’ll give her more cool baths… but it doesn’t feel like enough. Tiny seems to be getting worse. We’re moving in the dark, and so are the doctors.”

Abby was staring off into the distance. Then she looked at Glenda. “I don’t know if I ever told you, but when I was sick as a child Wendy helped me. She has her own medicines. I’m thinking maybe you’d like her to visit.”

“Wendy? Wendy would visit me? To help Tiny?”

“I think so. I wouldn’t have suggested it, but Tiny does seem pretty sick, and we seem to have run out of ideas. A hundred people are probably bothering Dr. Bear, and I don’t see leaving Tiny at the hospital. I think Dr. Bear is right, Tiny is better off here. And I could find Wendy in a few hours. Perhaps she’ll come here by evening. I’m not promising…”

“Yes, please!” Glenda jumped at the offer. “Yes! As soon as possible!” She began to cry.

Abby looked at her timer. It was 7:15. She called Peter to say that she needed the day off to try to get help for Tiny.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

“It’s a bad flu, or maybe a new kind of flu. The doctors aren’t sure what it is. Nothing seems to help.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’ll tell you later, after I do it.”

“Keep me informed. I’m worried about Tiny now, and the rest of the children too.”

In fifteen minutes Abby walked out Glenda’s back door and entered the forest near the Great Oak Tree. She felt bad for Peter, left with too few staff and too many worries. But Abby was determined to bring Wendy to see Tiny. Her motivation was overpowering. She had no doubts.

It was a warm, sunny day. The late August leaves were still green and full. Almost no sun reached the forest floor. She glanced back a few times but nothing moved in the dense shadows. Everything’s going my way. My plan is working out! Abby was in the midst of doing good, and felt invincible.

I wish I had a shorter route to Wendy’s house. There must be a faster way, probably underground. But the way Chi Chi taught me is not fast at all. And I miss having the mapstick. I’m sure the mapstick knows a faster way. Abby concentrated on all she knew about the underground, but she knew it was useless. Even if she went back to the churchyard for the mapstick, she would have to enter the underground in broad daylight. It was a risk she couldn’t take. So Abby pressed forward with no rest, crossing the Half Moon in her dinghy, climbing the cliff, and finally jogging through the great beech woods up to Wendy’s door. She let herself breath for a moment, and knocked. There was silence for a longer time than Abby could endure, and she knocked again. There was no sound.

Oh no, please! Wendy’s got to be around somewhere.

She heard the sound of steps somewhere in the house. She knocked again, and heard Wendy’s voice calling, “I’m coming! I’m coming! Can’t I have a moments peace around here? What is it?”

Wendy opened the door with a hard shove, and was surprised to see Abby standing there. “Well! I didn’t expect to see you! That Peter Hood never ceases to bother me. And my father and Chi Chi encourage him. Do I need more wood? More bread? Fish? Am I okay? Hunters are a few miles away and I should stay indoors.” Wendy paused and stared in fury. “I am not an invalid! I will not be treated like an old lady! I have important tasks on hand and will not be interrupted!”

Abby waited, and then said quietly, “We need your help, Wendy. Tiny is very sick. Dr. Bear doesn’t seem to be able to help.”

“Hmm…” said Wendy. “Well, it’s that time. Look, I’m in the middle of something. Come in and tell me about it.”

Abby followed her through two rooms to the large workshop more or less stuck onto the back of the house. Two tables were covered with plants, chopped herbs, strange containers, vials, tubes, books, and pages of scribbled writing. Nearby stood a black stove with a large copper pot on the burners. The pot was covered by a metal cone, with a tube that conveyed the vapors to a vessel on one of the tables. Abby caught a brief glimpse of the liquid and steam in the pot, glowing with a powerful, deep red color.

Using a long rod with a wooden handle, Wendy prodded a steaming red mass floating in the pot. “Such a day to be interrupted!” she howled. “It’s the perfect day, the perfect moment. Months of work are at stake. Soon, in hours or days, this will harden into a vegetable stone, and believe me, we’re going to need it! But I can’t expect you to understand these things.”

“I tell you, Tiny is very sick. She needs your help.”

“I can’t just leave it unfinished!” cried Wendy, and shook her fist over her head. “Believe me, you’re going to need this work I’m finishing now.”

Abby stamped her foot. “What good is this if you can’t even help a sick child? This place is full of medicines you never use.”

Wendy looked at her and thought for a minute. “Hmm…” she said, and stoked her long chin with a forefinger. She uttered a heartfelt sigh, shrugged her shoulders, and said, “Help me move this.”

She tossed Abby an old rag. Wendy grabbed a similar piece of material and grasped a handle of the pot. Abby did the same, and together they set the pot on the stone floor.

“Well, that’s that,” sighed Wendy. She left the room and returned in a moment with a black knapsack. From a shelf full of beakers and bottles and small containers of every description, she selected a glass jar full of crushed pale gray leaves. With a shovel shaped spoon, she put a quantity of these leaves into a small bag, and closed it with a drawstring. Then she grabbed a dark little bottle about five inches tall stopped with a cork, and a few silver instruments, and put everything into the knapsack.

“I’ll have to go down to the cave,” she said. “If it’s serious, we might as well have the best with us, just in case.”

Wendy opened the wooden trap door at the back of her workshop, lit a candle with the glass cover, and disappeared down the very narrow stone stairway that descended steeply into the darkness. Full of curiosity, Abby followed, wishing she had the mapstick to light the way, and possibly speak to her about the mysteries below. She had been there many times, but had never seen Wendy’s most valued medicines. The cold air had a damp, musty scent that was very familiar.

The passageway began to descend again, but opened suddenly on a large cave glimmering in the light of the candle. Wendy stood near the left hand wall of the cave, facing a small door built into the rock. She was making small, rapid movements with one hand. Suddenly the door came open. Moving closer Abby saw a walk-in closet lined with shelves. She realized that the closet was a very secure refrigerator, constantly at a low temperature but never freezing. Jars of many sizes and shapes stood on the shelves. Nets of apples, onions, potatoes and other tubers, and a variety of dried plants hung from the ceiling. The sound of rushing water filled the air.

From a small cabinet Wendy removed a metal cylinder about the size of a man’s fist, and put it into a small leather bag. They then returned the way they had come. Wendy sat at the kitchen table, pursing her lips and staring at the large blue veins on the back of her hand.

She’s thinking, Abby told herself, and waited. What comes next?

“Well, we have the best, but hopefully we won’t need it today. There is very little of the best, but we can’t afford to fail. The fate of my mother, you know. It haunts me. Being a healer is a dangerous occupation. She treated a man, and apparently failed. She lost her life, and our homes were burned. Chi Chi and I were born in the stress of that moment, and my life is scared with that tragedy. I knew we were going to have to start treating very sick people again, but… you should know that we can’t afford to fail. And when the vegetable stone is gone, we can do no more. Oh, and we’re going to need the mapstick.”

Abby was surprised. “Why? What does the mapstick have to do with this?”

“You’re probably not aware of it, but the presence and light of the mapstick helps people heal. It reaches deep, and we’ll need it. For one thing, with the mapstick the vegetable stone will last longer, and the healing will be more certain. So think about it.”

“I’ve already been thinking about it. I would have it with me, except I won’t us the churchyard entrance to the underground in daylight.”

“We’ll have to find a solution, but not right now. I know a shortcut underground. Remember it. You’re going to need it.”

[pewdiewoto-blog]

“I could feel the change”

FEB 26th:

Sunday night he was arguing in texts about me going back to editing as an “obsession”. I said I didn’t really agree. Then, he said “well smoking weed was an obsession, too, even though you don’t do it anymore.” I said we both smoked a lot, he disagreed saying I smoked more. After saying/debating this a bit, he says “you know what? I’m done with you, tbh.”

This came from such an irrelevant and ridiculous argument. I feel like this literally came out of nowhere. Then, after attacking me and making me feel like utter shit, he says 

“i’m honestly just over it. We don’t get along. I have enough bullshit going on, so peace.” 

I argued; “oh, we don’t et along? Since when? We’ve been close for like 8 fucking years”. To which he just responded, 

“i’m not gonna argue with you over whether or not i’m going to continue talking to you. 

He and I had dated before. He originally lied to me, and I panicked and immediately broke it off. I would say he’s one of two or three men that I genuinely fell in love with. I’ve always wanted another chance. We act lie we’re together, but it was never an “official” thing. At this point, i’m unaware if he was gaslighting me. He said repetitive, abusive phrases, and even mentioned fucked up psychological shit. He would do most of it when I was high. Making me weaker, I guess? He knows and an read me like the back of his hand, because as i’ve said, we have dated and been close a very, very long time. 

“Not a million fights could make me hate you; you’re invincible, yeah, it’s true.”

I showed the fight to another friend, and he agreed with him. That I don’t listen to anyone else. It’s all about me. I’m stubborn. I don’t take advice. I told him it’s because I am dominated by my emotions and internal self. I trust feelings and emotions to control me, and my own intuition. It’s just how I am.. Why do I have to change that? Are they irritated because i’m not rational and like to “live in a dreamworld?” Emotions take me over, make or break my decisions. Is that why my anxiety is so bad? Because I trust non-real tings and doubt myself and my emotions? 

I’m lonely without him. Its my fault for depending on one person for my happiness and emotions. Giving him basically the tools to control my emotions. I miss him. Ugh. Its like another break - up has split us all over again, and hurts just as badly as it did the first time my heart broke from him. What’s wrong with me? Why do people leave my life? Because i’m a person dominated by emotions? Is this argument we’re having another way o also effect and control my emotions? He knows how much I love him, and wanna be with him. Why would he hurt me like that again? Will he ever come back? Or is this truly the end? The one person I think understand me the most, someone I thought would never leave completely, was I wrong and this is it?

“RIP; I would die for you, do or die for you, suicide for you”

I’m so miserable. I feel like he was half of me, I feel empty after the people i’ve already lost, and losing him just seems like the feather that broke the camels back. Worrying, doubting, questioning literally everything. I want to die, but i’m also terrified of it. I don’t think there’s happiness for me here. I wanna be with my mom. I feel so abandoned and alone. I don’t see a point of being here. I miss you mom. You were the best fucking woman and mom in the world. I hope you’re with me. I love you. 

27TH:

Ive got knots all up in my chest Just know i’m trying my best cause when you look... when you laugh... when you smile... i’ll bring you back... and now i’m sad...

“Tell me more, i’ve got a boxcutter with your name on it.”

There’s no more time Just lay it on me If I lost my life, you can blame it on me.”