#because our modest experience has made us young people who know where the weaknesses of others are

[locationdevoiturestanger]

[xxpadfootxx]

🐾Green Tea & Cherry Blossoms Are a Good Mix (Part 1/2)🐾

Summary: Ochako is now happily married to Izuku and has a solid spot as the number four hero where she has been able to help people every day for years. Trying to catch up with her fellow hero friends one day, Ochako very suddenly realizes that her life is about to change in the largest way possible. Aka, Izuku comes home to one hell of a surprise.

~~~

Being a hero came with a lot of responsibilities, so many responsibilities that it made it hard for them to hang up the cape and live just as normal people. Ochako did not mind as she loved her job and saving people was something she had come to pride herself in but it felt nice for her to get together with her old female classmates for a rare break from the battlefield.

Momo, Ochako, Tsuyu, Jirou, Mina, and Hagakure were all sitting in Tsuyu’s nice apartment, laughing over old memories and catching up on what was new while sitting around the dining room table drinking sodas and eating small sandwiches as they used to when they were still in school.

“Speaking of valiant efforts, Ochako, you had a pretty solid win last week, didn’t you? Against that shape-shifting villain who could turn into any person, animal or object, right?” Jirou said, twirling one of her earphone jacks with her finger as she continued their conversation about their recent victories against the villains ravaging the city.

Ochako started to fiddle with the edges of her hair and cast her eyes down at the ground shyly. “It wasn’t that big of a deal. Any of you could have easily pummeled him into the ground, probably better than I did, I just happened to be there when he attacked.”

“Oh don’t be so modest, Ochako!” Mina said, placing a hand on her shoulder and smiling widely. “That guy was a real beast! You aren’t known as the number four hero for nothing!”

Ochako blushed at her friend’s words and took another bite out of her sandwich. She loved being the number four hero but being referred to as such always made her embarrassed. She didn’t always like the labels because even though she had worked tooth and nail after her incident with the metallic villain when she was still in school to become the greatest hero she could possibly be, she sometimes felt as if her friends deserved that title more. Even so, none of them treated her any differently, and she loved being able to comfortably talk to them, no matter how many titles were slapped on their names.

“Alright, can I change the topic for a moment?” Hagakure asked from her corner of the dining table, sipping her drink and wiping away the residue with the back of her hand.

“Sure, what’s up?” Momo asked, all of the girls turning to Hagakure.

“I wanted to announce something so drumroll please!” The invisible hero chirped and drummed her fingers on the dark oak wood of the table. “I’m getting married!”

“WHAT!?” All of the girls rose simultaneously and went over to congratulate their good friend who was smiling and laughing brightly as she accepted their hugs and pats on the back.

“So Ojiro proposed?” Mina squealed, her eyes shining.

“Yeah, Mashi took me out to dinner like a week ago and he was acting all strange. He kept fidgeting and his tail kept accidentally hitting people when they passed our booth so I finally asked him what was going on and he got down on one knee! I was so happy, I’ve been waiting all week to tell you girls about it!”

The girls all patted her back and gave her hugs once more, congratulating the invisible girl all over again on her new engagement. Finally, they all settled back down and began to eat and talk again.

“Speaking of Ojiro, how is he doing? What has he been up to? I feel like I haven’t seen any of the guys in forever.” Mina said, collapsing back into her chair and taking a swig of her sprite.

“He’s doing really well actually! He’s been out of town for a while, he had to leave the day after he proposed to me but he is coming back today!”

“Deku is out of town too,” Ochako piped up from in between Momo and Tsuyu. “He is going to be back within the next few days but he had a conference to attend to with some of the other top heroes. Todoroki and Bakugo are there as well, right Momo?” Ochako asked.

“Yeah they are, Shouto left last week to go pick up Bakugo from his house. Apparently, he lost his driver’s license again due to trying to blow up a guy for rear-ending him. My husband doesn’t mind though, they still have their differences but Shouto knows how to ignore it and despite his still crazy demeanor, Bakugo has matured quite a bit since high school,” Momo said.

“That’s true,” Ochako said. “Kirishima has really gotten Bakugo to calm down hasn’t he?”

“I just love that couple!” Mina said, putting her hand together and raising them to the side of her face as she gushed. “Who knew that Bakugo would be such a sucker for that red-haired hero?”

“Yeah,” Ochako chuckled and took another bite of her sandwich. That was when she felt it. She had been feeling a little queasy lately, and she had thrown up earlier that morning but her head had felt clear and she didn’t have a temperature so she had taken some aspirin and ignored it. But now a wave of nausea suddenly and forcefully washed over her and she dropped both her glass and her sandwich on the ground, rushing for the nearest bathroom. She heard her name being called but she ignored it as she sped around the corner and slid to a stop on her knees in front of the toilet. Thankfully, the lid was already up and so Ochako was able to make it before throwing up. Her body felt suddenly feverish and her hands were sweaty as she vomited into the water. The moment brought her back to a time in high school, when she had just come back to school after being in the hospital for a few weeks following the attack of a villain. The memory caused her to shiver as she remembered the horrible trauma it had caused, how she had felt so alone and weak and scared. That is until Deku had shown up out of the blue and had talked to her, calming her and holding her hair back as she relived her horrors in the form of being sick in the middle of the night. Even just the thought of Deku made her feel calmer, and by the time she was done throwing up, she felt less shaky.

“Ochako! Are you alright?” Tsuyu asked, peering her head in the doorway with a worried look on her face. Ochako flushed the toilet and stood up on wobbly legs, holding onto the counter for support and faced her friends with a shaky smile.

“Yeah, I’m alright. I have no idea what that was, but it’s been going on for some time now.”

“The vomiting?” Momo asked.

“Yeah. Every morning it’s as if a new sickness has washed over my body but then it is gone by around noon or so! Every day for the past week I’ve been feeling really strange.”

“Why don’t you come and sit down?” Tsuyu asked, motioning with her hand toward the hallway. Ochako nodded and padded out of the bathroom, her friends helping to support her to lay down on the couch. She sat down and already started to feel the effects of the incident fade away, her limbs regaining strength and her breaths becoming more consistent again. Mina walked over to Ochako and handed her a glass of water, concern filling her pretty black eyes.

“Are you sure you are alright?” Jirou asked.

“I think I’m fine,” Ochako said, taking a sip of water and rubbing her face. “I can already feel it receding, I’m just really confused.”

“Did you say this only happens in the morning, Ochako?” Momo asked.

“Yeah, I don’t know what it is.”

Momo put a hand to her chin as she thought, her mind wandering until her brain finally clasped onto a solution. Her face paled and then she blushed a furious red.

“Hey Ochako, can I ask a really personal question?”

“Um, sure, what’s up Momo?”

Momo blushed even redder and rubbed the back of her head nervously.

“Have you and Izuku ever…” Momo cleared her throat and forced herself to look at Ochako.

“Have you and Izuku ever had sex?”

Ochako had taken a sip of water, not expecting the question to be THAT personal and ended up choking on it once the words hit her.

“W-What!?”

Momo blushed again and the other girls tried to suppress the little giggles that were surfacing due to the situation.

“I’m sorry it was so dramatic but I really need to know, I might be able to figure out what has been happening with you.”

Ochako swallowed and blushed a bright red.

“Well, we have been married for about two years so yes, we have had s-sex a few times.”

“Was it unprotected?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Was it unprotected?” Momo asked again, her brow furrowed.

“Why do you want to know!?”

Momo sighed and rubbed her arms.

“As you know, Ochako, I have two young twin boys and so I have been getting some experience with them as well as doing lots of research.”

“Alright, so what does this have to do with me throwing up every morning?” Ochako asked, her brows knitting together and her teeth gently teasing her bottom lip nervously.

“Ochako,” Momo said, kneeling down in front of her and placing a hand on her shoulder. “I’m bringing up my sons because I believe that you are showing some similar symptoms with what I experienced.”

Tsuyu placed a hand over her mouth and Mina’s eyes began to shine with excitement.

“What do you mean?” Ochako asked softly, the idea of what Momo was getting at starting to sink in.

“This is just a theory but I have a slight suspicion that what you are experiencing is morning sickness,” Momo took a deep breath and looked at Ochako with shining eyes and a wide smile.

“I think you’re pregnant.”

Ochako sputtered and her eyes widened to the size of saucers.

“Holy shit, you think that I’m… I’m… going to have a b-baby?”

“Well, I think you should take a pregnancy test, alright Ochako? Don’t jump to conclusions or anything, I just think that you are showing a lot of the same things that I experienced when I found out I was expecting the boys,” Momo said.

Ochako felt her head begin to spin. A baby? I mean, she had always wanted a family with Izuku but they were always so busy, constantly working to save people and battle villains. The more she thought about it, the more worried she became. Would he be happy? Worried? Unhappy? Upset? Anxious? Angry? Ochako was getting more and more worked up and had to force herself to take a deep breath and calm down. She closed her eyes and allowed her anxiety and insecurities to melt away. She was the number four hero, she could handle anything.

“Alright, I’ll take the test to be sure,” Ochako said.

“Oh my god, Ochako!” Mina squealed, her eyes bright and shining. “What if you really are? That would be SO amazing! A little baby IzuOcha running around!”

“Are you late Ochako? I knew I was expecting when that happened to me,” Tsuyu said thoughtfully. Ochako looked at everyone and smiled.

“I don’t know anything for sure, but I’m happy to know that I have all of you to support me no matter what.”

“Of course!” Hagakure said cheerfully.

“Hell yeah! I call being the cool aunt!” Mina called happily.

“Guys, I don’t actually know anything yet!” Ochako said but everyone seemed to ignore her as they all laughed and beamed at their friend. Tsuyu’s phone suddenly chimed and the frog girl paused to glance at the notification on her screen.

“Oh, Fumikage is coming home from the grocery store with the kids, you guys are welcome to stay but I am going to start cleaning up some of this stuff so that it’s not so cluttered when they get home,” Tsuyu said, placing her phone back in her pocket.

“Thanks, Tsu, all of you actually, for the catch-up day but I, uh, guess I have some other priorities to sort through at the moment,” Ochako said sheepishly. The other women nodded at her with bright smiles and waved to her as she stood up from the couch and made her way to the door with her bag slung over her shoulder.

“Text us updates!” Mina called out behind Ochako just as she shut the door and began to make her way to the nearest pharmacy.

________________________________

Ochako paced ceaselessly in the main living room of the large, spacious flat she and her husband shared. He wasn’t supposed to come home for the next two days or so but she still couldn’t help but feel nervous. The pregnancy test from the pharmacy had proven Momo’s theory 100% correct and an appointment at the doctor’s office confirmed it even more.

She was having a baby. Izuku’s baby. She was going to be a mother and he was going to be a father. Ochako placed her hands gently on her still very flat stomach, feeling her strong abs rather than the swell of a baby belly. She knew that feeling would change with time but it still felt different. Now that she knew, she felt as if she could already feel the swell despite it not existing yet. She turned towards the large windows in their living space, gazing out across a more rural part of the city where they lived. Both Izuku and Ochako needed to be close to where all of the crime was but also enjoyed the peaceful serenity that came from being farther away from the heart of the city and so had chosen an expansive apartment complex to live in that was not too expensive, and that sat on the edge of the city, but still gave them access to lightning-fast train routes that took them to the heart of the crime when necessary. Her eyes scanned the distant buildings and settled on the bright pink flowers of the Cherry Blossom trees down below her. The beautiful trees swayed in the breeze and made her feel just a little bit calmer about the whole situation.

She was so deep in thought that she did not hear the door open. Izuku was about to call out her name when he saw her watching out the window wistfully, one her hands raised to her face to absentmindedly nibble on her fingertips. She was so beautiful, even when she was doing nothing more than just staring out of a window, she just looked so perfect. Izuku’s heart swelled with his immense love for his wife, his eyes beginning to water at the perfect image of his wife watching the world, the sun glimmering through the glass to leave little diamond-shaped speckles to shimmer off of her chocolatey brown hair. She was wearing a slightly cropped pink t-shirt and white shorts that cupped her nicely and allowed her strong thighs to stand out prominently. Izuku noticed she was barefoot, so he quietly took his own shoes and socks off at the door and crept up behind her.

Ochako let out a frightened squeal when she first felt those strong, solid arms wrap gently around her waist but when she whipped her head around and saw her husband home two days early, her face brightened up immediately, seeming to lighting up the entire room.

“Zuku!!! You’re home early!” Ochako exclaimed, turning around the rest of the way and launching into his arms to give him a proper hug. Izuku chuckled against her and placed his chin on her head as she snuggled her face into his neck.

“I missed you,” Izuku said softly, leaning down to give her a kiss on the cheek. She giggled when he kissed her and kissed him on the cheek back, her smile widening at the sight of him.

“I missed you too,” he murmured.

Izuku leaned down to kiss her cheek again, a small peck, but then paused and leaned down one last time, this time dragging out the kiss and even flicking just the tip of his tongue out to ghost it across her flesh.

“Zuku…” Ochako groaned as he repeated the action but on her neck this time. “Zuku, you just got home, stooooop.”

“I don’t mind,” Izuku muttered in a low voice. “In fact, that’s what makes me want you even more, I haven’t gotten to touch you or hug you for over a week, I need to recharge myself.”

Ochako almost gave in, her heart aching with her love for this man when all of a sudden everything came rushing back. Two days. He came home two days early. Which meant that she had two days less than before to think of ways to properly tell her husband everything.

“Wait! Wait, Zuku, I have to talk to you first,” Ochako said quickly stopping him from continuing to kiss her any lower on her body.

“Ochako, is everything alright?”

Ochako nodded quickly. “Nothing is wrong, it’s just…”

Ochako took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

“Something happened while you were gone, or at least, I realized something had happened while you were gone and now I don’t know how to tell you about it. I’m sure it’ll be fine but I’ve been stressing out about it for the past three days.”

Izuku raised his hands to very lightly grip her shoulders. Lightly, lovingly pressing his lips to hers he allowed her to relax a little.

“You can tell me anything, alright ‘Chako?” Izuku whispered to her when he had pulled away.

Ochako nodded and met his gaze, setting her resolve and taking a deep breath.

“Izuku, I… I’m… I’m pregnant.”

Izuku said nothing at first and Ochako closed her eyes, fearing the worst.

He was upset. He hated her. He hated the baby. He wanted to leave her. He wasn’t ready to be a father. He was angry at her. She knew it was irrational but the thoughts kept shoving past her common sense anyway, flooding her brain and even bringing tears to her eyes. She was about ready to cry or snap at him or do something when he stunned her with the most passionate kiss she had ever felt. Her eyes snapped open and then closed again but more relaxed as he kissed her as if she were the air he needed to live. When they broke apart they were both out of breath but Izuku’s eyes were shining with wonder.

“You-You’re having a b-baby!?”

Ochako nodded, the tears in her eyes now turning to joyful ones and sliding down her cheeks as she took in his reaction. Tears of his own were sliding down his cheeks and his entire face was ablaze with a bright red blush.

Izuku launched at her and gripped her waist, lifting her into the air and spinning her in a circle three times. When he set her down, his whole demeanor seemed to make him almost glow with pride and happiness.

“It-It’s mine? It’s really mine?”

“Yes yes!! Of course! There is no one else’s it could be! You are my one and only Izuku, always.”

“Oh!” Izuku said, his eyes widening slightly in alarm. “I did not mean in any way to suggest you were being unfaithful, I just…” He sighed. “It just all feels so surreal to me. I finally get to have what I have always wanted with the woman of my dreams? How the hell did I get so damn lucky!?” Izuku said in awe.

Ochako felt her heart squeeze somehow ever tighter and she nearly tackled him into a kiss full of passion equal to the one he had given her.

“You are not the only lucky one.”

Suddenly, Izuku really started to cry. He placed his head in his hands and his whole frame began to shake with silent sobs. Alarm coursed through Ochako and she immediately knelt down to meet her husband who had slid to the floor.

“Zuku? What’s wrong!?”

Izuku sniffled a few times before turning his tear-streaked face to look at her. Raising one of his scarred hands to cup her cheek, his thumb lightly caressing her skin.

“I just, I just remembered everything from that night. The night I almost lost you,” Izuku said. Although the pair had been through many hardships together as heroes rising through the ranks, many of which had resulted in near-death experiences, Ochako immediately knew which one he was talking about. The night with the metallic villain that had kidnapped her. The night she had actually died but been brought back to life at the last second by none other than the man sobbing on her floor.

“I remembered how when I thought you were gone forever, how my mind played through not only every memory I had with you but also every memory I wanted to share with you but that I thought I never could. The memories of getting married and going on dates and kissing each other. One of the scenes that played through my mind at that moment was of this.” Izuku said softly. “It was a scene of being told I was going to be a father. At the time, I didn’t know why I thought of that and I thought it was never going to happen, even if you did manage to come back. But you did and now, I am living what I thought was mere fantasy.” Izuku’s shaking had decreased in force but he was still trembling against the comforting grasp of the woman he adored.

“Izuku Midoriya,” Ochako said loudly and confidently.

“Yeah?” Izuku asked, looking up into his wife’s determined features.

“You are going to be a father. But not just any father, you are going to be the father to our child. You and me. And damn it you are going to be the best father to ever live,” Ochako said beaming.

Izuku stared at her in shock for a small moment before breaking down all over again, joy radiating from him.

“Chako?” Izuku hiccuped.

“Hm?”

“Thank you, you are the greatest gift I could’ve ever asked for.”

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Anonymous asked: Don’t you miss London in any way since you are British? Wouldn’t you love to come back especially after Brexit? Do you think London has changed for the worse that its not worth living there anymore?

Yes, I do miss London. I do want to go back....but not yet. I’m enjoying living and working in Paris. Brexit doesn’t affect me as I also have a Norwegian passport and I qualify for carte de séjour (a sort of residential work permit).

It was the wit Stephen Fry who said “The English language is like London: proudly barbaric yet deeply civilised, too, common yet royal, vulgar yet processional, sacred yet profane.” He captures the essence of London it’s so diverse that anyone can fit in. That is its strength and its weakness compared to other maga cosmopolitan cities like New York in the West or Shanghai in the East as its only rival.

But to my mind London has  more - arguably the same as New York but definitely more than Shanghai - in terms of energy and vibrancy with a very unique English topping of eccentricity. Something you would never find in Paris for instance where things are quite socially stodgy and snobbish. The dinner parties I attend in London are far more down to earth and vibrant as well as eccentric and very fun compared to the ritualised boerdom of super pretentious dinner parties of the Parisian crowds I get roped in - a caveat, most but not all.

London to me is like city state much in the spirit of a medieval Florence. It has no moorings to the rest of the country or the nation. It’s a bubble. or I should say bubbles within a giant bubble. There a diversity of communities each rubbing up against each other. Mostly for the good but some times not so good. Despite urban problems that affict growing mega capitals London for me still remains a wonderful place to live. 

When people ask me about if I enjoyed living in London I have to ask which London? We all live in our concentric social circles in London and people as much as place help define our sense of belonging and happiness. I don’t look at London in an abstract way in terms of favourite places but in terms of the bonds of friendships made and sustained from childhood onwards. 

Samuel Johnson said “When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life; for there is in London all that life can afford.” In my case, it’s because I wanted to expand my life experiences that I left London. I get bored easily and I have restless feet. I left London because it became too small for me. Or rather the world I inhabited became too socially claustrophobic for my tastes. I needed to get out and seek adventure and challenges elsewhere at least for the next chapter of my life.

I do love London and I often go back there for work reasons as well as personal ones when I can. I am a member of a few gentlemen clubs (many allow women in now) and its old genteel atmosphere centres me and paradoxically helps me to see London in slow motion even as London around me is fast moving and changing. I also don’t miss key events that I can only experience in London like the ballet and the theatre which is unrivalled in the world. And of course there are some events on the social season calendar which I can’t miss because of family obligations.

Every city has its unique charms but only a few touch the heart and soul. London - or at least the London of my childhood - is one of them. But for how much longer I don’t know.

London seems to be galloping towards a new and uncertain identity, one that puts ‘stuff’ before substance, and more importantly, money before class (as in good taste). Brexit’s impact on London doesn’t bother me in the slightest as London will adapt as it always does. It will muddle through which has always been the English way to solving any problem: just muddle through.

Still, it’s the little things I notice rather than the obvious macro ones. It niggles me and prey on my mind long after I witness the offence.

So let me give you an example of what I mean.

I did a hard day’s shopping in Knightsbridge and was waiting to meet a dear old friend from boarding school to play catch up. She’s always bringing me up to speed on the gossip in our circles and most of it goes in one ear and out of the other as I’m bored by it but interested and polite enough to listen if only to feel happiness and relief that I actually do live away in Paris.

So there I was waiting for her. She was late as usual. I was sitting in a quintessentially English hotel restaurant in Knightsbridge over Christmas. I watched a young man about the same age as me approach the door. He was dressed in a wool long coat with a velvet collar that looked a little snug, although it was beautiful and had the look of Turnbull and Asser about it.

My heart soared, as he held the door open for an elegantly dressed woman who was on her way out, then approached the restaurant and confirmed he was there and waiting for a guest, a living illustration that manners maketh man.  When he took his coat off it was to reveal what was the uniform of my father’s generation, right down to the waistcoat, bottom button left open, and polished shoes. The suit he was wearing could well have been inherited from his father - probably Savile Row - but the whole was a thing of modest beauty and seemed to fit with the Christmas decorations and season of traditions. This was a well groomed young gentleman who had dressed for the occasion, and the occasion was a treat, an extravagance, something not of the every day.

I ended up at a table diagonally across from him and his companion, probably his wife or partner, excited to be there and also impeccably dressed and I watched as a party of flashy men of indecipherable East European origin arrived five minutes later. They didn’t speak much English and were wearing a selection of very tight floral shirts with white cuffs and collars. Block printed, purple and lime and many other colours unsuitable for December, but there you have it and while my suited object of admiration sat unserved, the party in the middle of the restaurant made up for their lack of fluent English with magnificent finger clicking skills.

You might say this is and always has been the way of the world, the wallets were on the table, money clips clearly visible through the skintight shirts, but one thing was different about this picture, something unpleasant. The restaurant staff fawned on them, and the couple opposite me sat, waiting politely for the two gin and tonics they had ordered.

Meanwhile, gaudy bottles of Ace of Spades Champagne arrived stage centre, possibly the world’s flashiest wine container, gold and shiny and terribly gauche. They were closely followed by four sets of twins, female ones, who sat down at the table amongst the flowery shirts and were each poured a glass of fizz which they silently sipped in minimal clothing.

Meanwhile in the other corner, the unassuming couple who had come in first were still waiting for their drinks, and I watched while the gloss went off their day, and the pall of poor relations settled on them in the corner.

This scene will be familiar to anyone who lives in Central London and it’s sad. The bottom line has always been a vital consideration in the London restaurant scene, there has always been a special table for regular customers, that’s the way of things. Until recently however there has also been that very British recognition that the chap who has saved up all year to take his wife to a special lunch should be treated as if he is also a regular guest and one of equal value at that.

It’s these little acts of tradition and custom that are the life blood of the civic life of a city. Lose this and you slowly erode the pillars of civility.

This obnoxious veneration of money to the exclusion of everything else has reached fever pitch. Restaurants that used to be just that, dining rooms that you could sit and eat lovely food in, providing a bubble away from the day to day stresses that we are all party to, are now restaurants with private clubs upstairs. Meanwhile private clubs that used to be simply  private clubs now have VIP areas – VVIP areas – which is at least a bonus in that you can avoid the more ghastly members as they are all in those bits.

What does this all mean? Does it mean that everything from eating out to where we shop is now Instagrammed or Facebooked, leaving us defined by our purchases and spending habits alone? It is certainly starting to feel like it in London (and worryingly small signs of it Paris too with rich Russians and Arabs buying up most expensive aprtments in the city), where a hundred pounds is the new tenner, and consumption has reached improbable proportions.

Strangely though, no one seems any happier, quite the contrary. Are the new Rich Kids of Instagram really something to aspire to? Is bad taste the new good taste?  Strange times are upon us, when 16 year olds sit in a cordoned off areas of clubs and restaurants flashing their cash and getting on and off jets. I see this first hand as I sometimes get to fly on private jets purely for work reasons at the largesse of my corporate clients. I always thought the Euro trash aristocrats girls at my Swiss boarding school were entitled airheads but the present nouveau riche incarnation don’t even have a sense of ironic self awareness or taste.

Human beings love a boundary, well they have for the whole history of mankind to date, anyway. If in one generation we get rid of all the traditional social conventions, from buying our own homes, saving, working hard, not buying whatever we want whenever we want it, where will we be?  Perhaps instant gratification will lead us all to a new kind of life, a new place where we all live for experiences instead of taking out a mortgage, where nothing we do is our fault and no consequences to our actions.

I have always loved the quote ‘Don’t give up on what you want for what you want now’ and believe that delaying gratification is the defining characteristic of mature adulthood.

Perhaps values, traditions, less is more and simple kindness will make a comeback. In the meantime, restaurants will empty of customers like the well mannered gentleman on the corner table, and I will continue to feel uncomfortable that we are losing something vital not just in London but increasingly elsewhere in great European cities I travel to.

Thanks for your question.

[wolfromtheisland]

Xantunsia Riveresiana - Monster Hunter

Sole Survivor

“I have to grasp it for all of you! I cant waste it! All our pain, our dreams, our regrets, fears, anger, sadness, I’m the only one left who can carry it! So a little more is nothing compared to all the happiness you lost! I’ll keep gathering it! I promise! “

Raised since the age of 5 on a monster infested island, Xantunsia has seen her fair share of death In fact, it seems to follow her and she had to come to terms with that a bit younger than most do.

Life didn’t get much easier after escaping that cursed place, but pushing through all the pain and loss, she buries herself in training to cope with her trauma and protect what she cares about, which just happens to be the world at times.

The young miqo’te has no memories before her airship crash that sentenced her to six years on that hellish land. With vicious Monsters she hasn't seen the equal of even in her current age roaming in hoards and her only allies being children as young as four, she learned to steel herself in the face of the death of allies. Or she tried rather, but each one was a dagger in the softhearted mewling. What she really learned was to cope with the pain of it. Besides the children, she did also have Leader, the only fully grown survivor on the island. Though he was cold and pragmatic, his instruction generally kept the most people safe. That was until the Calamity struck. In the wake of the Monsters rampaging about at that time, Leader was lost and Xantunsia took his place. She managed to even lead the few surviving children off the island and live a half decade with her modest little clan. But the specter of death would take that from her too, she would even argue she tore it apart with her own hands. It was in that state she would leave the wilds and arrive in civilization for the first time, if you can call Limsa Lominsa such a thing.

The Basics ––––

Age: 22(?)

Birthday: 26th Sun of the 1st Umbral Moon (A Date she chose randomly)

Race: Miqo’te : Keeper of The Moon

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Pansexual

Marital Status: Single

Crystal Data Center : Zalera

Physical Appearance ––––

Hair: What used to be a scruff shag of white hair, has been warped by exposure to feral aether and monster blood. Died golden by the energy of her Inner Beast and how often she released it, it was splashed red by the ample amounts of Monster blood she would get coated in. Eventually, it became even more red than gold. It also went from scruffy to very spiky, to the point it feels jelled almost and can prick unprepared hands. She has to tie it up just to keep  it under some semblance of control. 

Eyes: coincidentally like her hair, a golden color, but change blood red when enraged.

Height: 4″10′

Build: she has packed more muscle into her tiny frame than one would think humanly possible. deceptively petite clothed, she could handedly defeat even  a train Roegadyn in a test of strength with a body seemingly made on Tungsten Steel which is toned to match.

Distinguishing Marks: Though heavily scarred all over her body, they have mostly healed to the point of being barely noticeable without looking intently. Outside of that, most of her features are pretty eye catching in their own right. She also always has the scent of blood on her for those who can notice that.

Common Accessories: Not exactly forward on fashion, she typically simply chooses the accessories that have the most combat use. She does however glamour her accessories with certain ones that have been gifted to her by friends like the Namazu Necklace.

Personal ––––

Profession: Monster Hunter (more of a hobby but people pay her)

Hobbies: All forms of Craftiing and Gathering, Reading, Learning new information

Languages: Most Languages (And when she finds a new one, she studies it obsessively)

Residence: Wherever is a deemed a safe place to camp

Birthplace: ???

Religion: Agnostic

Patron Deity: Oschon, The Wanderer

Fears: Death, being weak or unprepared, something befalling those she cares about, the unknown

Relationships –––

Spouse: N/A

Children: Gilberti Rivesesiana (Son, Deceased?), Extorris Riveresiana (Daughter, Deceased), Vigilis Riveresiana (Daughter, Deceased) (Adopted and appointed children by Xantunsia, they are actually only a few years younger than her)

Parents: Leader Riveresiana (Father, Deceased) (Appointed Father by Xantunsia postmortem)

Siblings: Noir Panthere (Sister) (Adopted and Self-Appointed)

Other Relatives: The other 54 members of Riveresiana Clan (Deceased)

Pets: Clarent (Chocobo) Throw Pillow (Amaro) Coalumu (Ufiti), Arthur (Black Chocobo), Maggie (Magitek Armor), Parrie (Magitek Predator), Dekie (Magitek Deathclaw), Sqwiggles (Ahriman), Betty (Behemoth), Piko (Yol), Pointy (Unicorn)

Traits –––

* Bold your character’s answer.

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm  / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between/ Reckless

Patient / In Between / Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

Additional information ––––

Smoking Habit: Never Drugs: occasionally tests drugs on herself to build up resistances Alcohol: Socially (and to build up a resistance)

RP Hooks

✔ - Xantunsia’s main coping mechanism is training, which she is doing near constantly and is always up for joining in, having others come along with her’s, or learning new forms of training. On that note, Her main form of training is Monster Hunting. She’s always looking for stronger and stronger prey and if you need a Monster dead, she will never say no.

✔ - Due to her constant hunting, she always has the scent of blood on her, maybe this would catch your characters attention in some way good or bad (She has been attacked out of the blue by strangers because of this and is rather understanding about it, thinks it makes for good training!)

✔ - Xantunsia has mastered all forms of combat in her personal training, as well as healing, if you need a role filled or a job done, she will not withhold her help. conversely, if youre someone who would challenge such a person, she never says no.

✔ - Xantunsia doesn't have a location exactly she would call home, and her hunts and training have her effectively wandering constantly. Should she find herself in a new place, she may need some help, but the reverse can also be true

✔ - Her anxiety manifesting in a near perfect memory as well as obsessively collecting any information that may be even remotely usable for survivability or battle, Xantunsia loves little more than simply learning new things. You have some unique information, knowledge, or skills? You will likely have her attention.

✔ - The Main Scenario is also part of Xantunsia’s personal story. If the same can be said about you, then it’s likely she has met your character in some capacity (specifics such as “who is the Warrior of Light” or mentioning big events by character name such as “Haucherfaunt” are usual a bad idea for mixing characters that are also canon Warriors of Light. Typically it will just be passing references to such characters and not by name, and Xantunsia never refers to herself as The Warrior of Light anyway)

Player Information

The information on this page is not allowed to be used unless spoken about with me. Either on Tumblr, Discord or /tell.

I am okay with some mature content in RP, Xantunsia is a generally happy, even silly character despite her past but with major themes of ptsd and coping with death, she can fit well into most darker themes. Sexual themes however, she doesnt fit well with. Generally her experience with the darkness of the world is of a more forward brutal nature and she has no experience with such things. She doesnt even actually know where babies come from and assumes they all come from airship crashes. At most she can get into humorous moments where she doesnt understand when something sexual is attempted to be explained to her. I decided to keep her perpetually unaware of such topics mostly just because I find it funnier that way, but it does take serious situations involving sexual themes off the table.

[transboygenius]

SE4SON: Chapter 21

Mitzi was at the market, shopping for any necessities her family, and the farm animals, needed to live on for a whole month. She wasn't halfway through the list yet. It was difficult working under a budget, especially with prices like these to bear with. The cheapest deals came in bruised, damaged, or ready to go bad. You can already guess what deals Mitzi went for. Pretty soon the basket will get heavy, and it's a shame Diana didn't came along with her. Speaking of Diana, where has she and the others gone to with those strange boys? Just as Mitzi continued with her shopping, she ran into a strange man wearing a black trench coat and a feathered hat. The man opened his coat to reveal items hidden.

"Pssssssst. Mistress. May I interest you in some optical instruments? For only 5 pence, one of these lovely specimen could take thee on a trip to the solar system where the big dipper awaits. Or you could catch a glimpse of what life dwells outside of these walls from thy bedroom window." Said the salesman. "Thank you, young sir, but your price is far too rich for my blood. And if I wanted to see something up close, I could just walk up to it." 

Suddenly, a carriage came speeding by and everyone quickly jumped out of the way, including Mitzi.

"Gangway, peasants! Prisoners in the King's custody!"

Mitzi got up, and started picking up the groceries the carriage made her drop, while cursing under her breath. Then a thought occurred to her. She could've sworn she witnessed something recognizable in the back of that carriage. As Mitzi seized a telescope from the salesman, she looked fixedly into it. Her hunch was right, but she wished it wasn't. Diana was still as a statue. Rodent Girl was muzzled and shackled. Benson was fearing for his life. Some little girl was trapped in a cage. Jimmy and Nick were chained together, also dressed like a wizard and knight. The expression on Jimmy's face looked to be he was angry at something. Or someone. He was even yelling, though Mitzi couldn't hear nor read his lips. Then, she saw King Jason, who was repeatedly kissing this valuable amulet around his neck.

"Uh, Miss? You're gonna purchase that or what?"

Mitzi tossed the telescope back to the salesman, and decided to follow the carriage.

...............................

[*Back in modern time*]

The squad was still putting together the time machine, piece by piece. Well, mostly the adults, and Goddard, did all the work. Libby was reading through a fashion magazine. Sheen watched numerous conspiracy theory videos on his phone. They wanted to help at first, but it seemed like the grown-ups had everything on hand. Carl, however, served the squad refreshments. He came out of the house with a tray, which held pink lemonade and cookies. The allergy boy served his friends first, then Judy. Instead of drinking the lemonade, Judy used the whole pitcher to drench herself. Through Carl's point of view, the image was more sultry. The scene played in slow motion. From the beverage cascading down like a waterfall, to the sunset glistening on Judy's beautiful frame. Mrs. Dean looked at Carl, absolutely disturbed.

"Oh, Butter Biscuit!" Hollered Hugh. "What is it, Hugh?" Asked Judy. "After we finish assembling the parts on this, thingumabob-thingumajig-kajigger, what's say we pay the prehistoric era a call? Let's hope they'll be home to answer it, though. *RING RING!* Hah hah hah hah hah!" "Do you believe Jimmy might be there?! Oh, dear." "Nnnnnnnnnnoo, frankly. I just wanted to see if I could shoot myself a photograph of the rare bullockornis planei for my duck-lovers blogspot! We call them the demon ducks of DOOOOOM!" "Hugh: Our son's life is riding on it, and all you can think of at this moment is your stupid ducks! The poor little boy is probably lost out there, suffering, and confused! He must be pining for the warmth of his family about now! So, after Jimmy has been found, then you can let yourself get eaten by dinosaurs!"

Mrs. Dean and Hugh were thrown back by Judy's sassy personality.

"That's some woman you got there." Mrs. Dean whispered to Hugh. "Tell me about it. You think I only married her for her looks?" Hugh whispered back.

Elsewhere, Cindy watched everything from out her window, before shutting the blinds. Everyone is putting their best effort to bring Jimmy and Nick back, and here she is, shutting herself in her bedroom. She has nothing to do but eat junk food, watch TV, and continuously refresh her Cheeper account to see if she got any new re-chirps. Even if Libby is just sitting around while reading a magazine, she looks like she's having more fun than Cindy, because she's in the presence of friends. She at least has an adoring company surrounding her, not to mention someone to share chats with. There, Cindy's inferiority complex began to kick in. How dare that traitor think she can have more fun than me? Cindy looked over to her sleeping dog, then had an idea. She went under her bed and reached for Humphrey's favorite bone. Dogs can be much better friends than humans.

"FETCH, HUMPHREY!"

The bone bounced off of the bulldog's head, waking him up abruptly. Humphrey looked at the bone, which was six feet far from him. Instead of retrieving the item to his owner, Humphrey just yawned, and fallen back into his slumber.

"Aw, you're not as productive as you used to."

................................

[*Back in medieval*]

Everyone sat helpless in their cell. Benson was clattering a metal mug against the bars. Rodent Girl was chatting with a rat. Diana was punching the wall, and she's been doing it for about 30 minutes. Jason used his powers to turn the cell indestructible to Diana's strength, but she was determined to find a weak spot eventually. Jimmy and Nick sat with their heads hanging low, while Sally besides them played a harmonica. Jimmy can't help but feel guilty for landing his new friends in hot water. The plan Jimmy discussed with Sally earlier, about turning the tables on Jason in case he decides to double-cross, had actually been a lie. He had no plan for that from the start. Jimmy didn't suspect that King Jason would try to betray them, because the boy genius thought he was capable of changing him.

Jimmy was confident enough to believe that he could manipulate the king, despite his friends claiming they knew him more. Hell, they live in the same town with this tyrant. The boy genius was arrogant in himself as usual. He always had a knack for shrugging off voices of reason. Just because he won every science fair (not counting this year's), just because he has the highest grades in school, just because he successfully saved Retroville and possibly the whole world from countless mayhem, he automatically assumes he's smarter than anyone with experience. Jimmy recalled a year back, in fourth grade, where he wanted to drain his own genius for everyone's sake, because this is what his brain gets people into. Worse, he dragged his best friend, Nick, into a mission he wanted no part in.

"Gee. I'm awfully sorry, everyone! Especially you, Nick. All the blame goes on me!" Said Jimmy.

Rodent Girl was about to give a rude remark to the boy genius, before Diana covered her mouth.

"Hey. It's okay, bruh. Don't beat yourself up. You at least tried your best." Nick provided comfort to his friend. "Where's a reason that I shouldn't beat myself up? I cost Butterscotch his life, got ourselves imprisoned, and possibly endangered the whole village by letting the king take hold of the amulet! Worse: We'll never see our families again." Jimmy continued to doubt himself. "But you didn't know! It's not your fault your brain couldn't predict the obvious!" "Thanks for pointing that out. I'm stupid. I have now lost the right to use the 'Boy Genius' title." "No, I did not mean it like that! C'mon, Jimmy!" "I know you're trying to be supportive and all, but you can't deny that it's true." "It's not true! I deny it! I deny it! You were just doing... ...what your gut was telling you to do!" "I think Nick is right, chum! We knew King Jason for years now! You two hardly knew him at all, so ya can't blame someone for being naive!" Said Diana. "And it didn't help the conclusion that the king manipulated you with kindness in your first encounter!" Added Benson. "In the earlier two chapters of my first and second appearance, I used to address myself by 'me' instead of 'I.' Somehow, I just don't anymore. Strange, ain't it?" Also added Rodent Girl, which only confused everyone. "No need to help me recoup, gang. After all, Butterscotch's demise was all my responsibility." Exclaimed Jimmy. "That's nothing to feel responsible for! Jason was the one who was responsible. He knew the bridge was unstable! To add insult to injury, he pushed the buttons on a sensitive, kind horse! *Starts to tear up* I'm gonna miss that old lug. But that's okay. I'm now sooner to meeting him again." Said Diana. "Why all the forgiveness? I clearly don't deserve it! The gallows are right around the corner, all because of me!" "It's like your friend said! You didn't know! You only wanted to do what was best for us! You two have been good, modest friends, so I can't help not being angry at you! Especially over a mistake! The way you held onto your hope, stirred forward with obstinacy, kinda reminded me of myself during my youth. You know, before I went swole." "Although we've never communicated much, I'd like to pay some blessings to thee. You gents never ridiculed me, or did insult me, for my own way of expressing masculinity. Every other man that I've met aren't hesitant to profane my selfhood. Even father." Quote Benson. "You guys were very nice to us, I guess. And, I've never had a human friend before. Kids never stick around to play with me cuz they always run away whenever I bring out the rats. Most of them just run away from looking at me." Rodent Girl gave her part. "Whether or not you guys may be the legendary Wise Wizard or Silver Knight, which I still doubt that you aren't, you guys are pretty neat, and I'm glad that I've met you." Said Sally. "Look, Jimmy. Mistakes are a healthy part of growing up. You make a mistake, learn from what you've done wrong, and improve it. The more you improve, the better it gets. Trust me, as a young cook, I made a fair share of mistakes in the past." Nick attempted to cheer up the boy genius. "C'mon, gang! Group hug!" Shouted Diana.

Jimmy declined at first, but it was too late. Unfortunately, just like with Mitzi, Diana put in little strength. It was actually quite joyous, getting hug by the people you love. After the group hug was over, Jimmy looked at everyone. In spite of his mistake, they were all understanding. Understanding and naive. They're about to die in the following day, and King Jason might wreak havoc on the whole village. On the up side, Jimmy hasn't felt the purity of friendship in so long. Him, Sheen, and Carl were like this, way before Jimmy spent more time hitting the lab. Why does it have to end this way? He never had the chance to apologize. If any of them start to grow any sense, they'll come to realize how much of a jerk he's been. And Nick... In case this does turn out to be their final hours together...

"Everyone, may I propose a very important promulgation?" Said Jimmy. "All of you are such wonderful people. Each special in your own ways. The whole kingdom may look down on you, but that's because they never took the time to see your full potential. Diana, your strong and full of heart! Benson, you take pride of what you are and what you do! I envy that! Except for the whole eavesdropping gig. Rodent Girl, I'm surprised you don't have any friends! You're only one of the most funnest human beings (or whatever you might be) I've ever hung out with! Sally... Thanks for letting me know about this Wise Wizard and Silver Knight. Actually learned a lot from them, thanks to your father's logs. N-no, don't get the wrong idea that, POOF, I've suddenly 'regained my memory back.' I love you all so very much! There's no where I'd rather be than to spend my last day with you guys! And speaking of love..."

Jimmy turned to Nick.

"I haven't forgotten you. May I tell you something?" Asked Jimmy. "I was gonna tell you something. Something that's very, very personal to me, and now I may finally get it off my chest. But it can wait. Proceed." Replied Nick. "Okay... *Sighs* Nick, ever since you let out the real you, my whole life just lit up. All this time, I've been admired by the formally most popular guy in school and didn't know! We could've been good best friends then. Of course, I can understand your insecurity. I've never met a guy like you before. It's... ...hard to believe you've been hiding this from me!" "That's not all I've been hiding." "What?" "Nothing! Go on!" "*AHEM* As I was saying, you and me seem to find comfort in each other. We agree on the same mindset level. Me and Carl couldn't connect this way. Or Sheen. Or Cindy. You're very honest. Although you may be overdoing it, nobody has shown me that much care other than my own parents. I really appreciate it. And thanks to you, I have rediscovered pure friendship." "*Blushes* Don't mention it." "You're the bestest of best friends I've ever had! But..." "Oh no, not the 'but.'" "This may come as a shock to you. Lately, I've been having these certain feelings that I've yet had trouble summarizing. As a matter of fact, even if I was sure I knew how I was feeling, I was too scared to stomach it. We live in a society, where we're never exposed to this kind of stuff. We've only been raised on the 'default.' I didn't think this stuff would happen to me. Then, a tale of two valiant heroes have shown me that it is possible, and normal as well. They've taught me something a genius like me didn't know." "Huh? Huh?! (Could this mean what I think it means?!)" "*Gulps down* Nick, I... I, I... I..."

Rodent Girl suddenly interrupted.

"I SEE A RABBIT!"

Everyone turned their attention to what Rodent Girl was pointing at. There was that same white rabbit again. Nobody found that exciting, until it began picking up the ring of keys with its mouth. Nick groaned in disappointment. He was looking forward to hearing the rest of Jimmy's confession. The rabbit, holding onto the keys, jumped off the wooden desk. Everyone beckoned for the rabbit's attention, expanding their arms outside of the cell. The rabbit just sat at a far distance, staring at them. Jimmy suspected that they needed to lure the rabbit in to grab the keys. Luckily, Rodent Girl happened to smuggle some food. First, she pulled out a piece of cheese, but the rabbit just backed away from the stench. She tried a piece of meat, but Jimmy pointed out that rabbits are vegetarians. That gave Rodent Girl an idea, and she pulled out a leaf of lettuce. This time, Jimmy wanted to bait the bunny.

"Hey there, Cottontail. Remember me? Now, you look like you could use a snack."

The lettuce was working. The rabbit took its time, and hopped towards the vegetable. As the rabbit got closer, it was soon standing over a floor drain. That fluffy creature began to sniff the lettuce. Jimmy planned to grab the key after the rabbit goes for the leaf. On that spur of the moment, a loud sound entered the dungeon, which startled everyone, including the rabbit. In shock, it dropped the keys and they fell into the drain. There goes their chance to escape. The rabbit hopped out of the scene to get away from whatever disturbance it just heard. Nick patted Jimmy on the back as comfort.

"Well, that was far by a long shot. At least we all have each other!" Said Jimmy. "If only we had told Mitzi. It isn't a family without her." Quote Diana. "Hey, I think our time might be up!" Screamed Rodent Girl. "No it ain't! Our penalty doesn't start till tomorrow!" Replied Nick. "Then why do I see DEATH approaching us?!"

An ominous looking visitor, wearing a black cloak with the hood over their head, was walking towards their cell. Rodent Girl quickly scurried behind Diana for protection. Benson also went behind Diana. Jimmy, Nick, and Sally just stood frozen, with their hands gripping the bars tightly. The two young boys didn't believe that was Death, but they are curious about this unknown stranger. Rodent Girl peeked from behind Diana, then let out a whaling scream. The visitor then uncovered their hood.

"Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

It was Mitzi in disguise. Nick was not pleased.

"Mitzi?" Spoke Diana. "Fancy meeting you here. You came to rescue us, or to gloat in me and my friend's face cuz you have substantial proof that we're 'bad people?'" Asked Nick. "What does it look like?" Also asked Mitzi. "Looks like you wanna gloat." "This isn't what you think it is, Mitzi! We have a perfectly good alibi behind-" Said Jimmy, before Mitzi cut him off. "No need for an explanation, young man! I can plainly see what's going on here."

Jimmy put on an expression that was a mix between concern and sadness.

"You were planning to conquer the king! It's a shame you didn't invite me." Said Mitzi. "Huh- How could you tell?" Asked Jimmy. "Well, it must be the story behind why you're locked up down here in the dungeon. Look, I'm not very informed about demons and their history, primarily because all I want to do is forget about them, but I know for a fact that Jason seems like the type of gent who would be good friends with these creeps. Judging by your current situation, it don't look to me like you're his friends at all. Jason is as close to a demon. Whatever you did, I wilt admit: That was quaint noble of you boys."

Rodent Girl was about to explain what really happened, but Diana shut her mouth closed once again.

"Does that mean we're off the hook?" Asked Nick. "I think... Why the hell not? Being upset with you has gone exhausting anyways."

Jimmy then let out a slight smile. Sally stuck her hand outside of the cell to shake with Mitzi.

"Hi, I'm Sally!" Greeted Sally. "I'm Mitzi. Nice to meet you."

Now Mitzi was ready to free them. Unfortunately, she couldn't find the keys to the cell.

"What happened to the keys?" Asked Mitzi. "Apparently, there's somebunny who hates us very much." Replied Nick. "Wait a minute. Hold on!"

Mitzi suddenly dashed off somewhere. Everyone hesitated in silence for a moment. Diana started whistling a tune. Benson continued to clatter his mug against the bars. The gang was waiting patiently for Mitzi's return.

"You were saying..." Said Nick. "Pardon?" Asked Jimmy. "I believe you were gonna tell me something." "Oh, oh, that! Hmmmmmm... I'm afraid I forgot what I was going to say. Sorry." "*Sighs* It's okay." "Keeping secrets again?" There was that familiar voice.

Mitzi was back, with a brand new key in her hand. Wow, that was fast! After she unlocked the cell, everyone ran out free. Rodent Girl even kissed the outside floor.

"Remember who was the best darn blacksmith for 12 years!" Mitzi bragged, while spinning the key around her finger. "It's good to see your spirit has returned, old friend!" Said Diana. "Not so fast! I believe you owe me and my friend something! We've been patient for it." Exclaimed Nick.

Jimmy and Nick were standing next to each other with their arms crossed.

"I-I already have! I freed you, didn't I?" Said Mitzi.

The two boys stayed in position, still not satisfied enough. It's obvious they want an apology.

"*Groans* OKAY. I am sorry! From the way I did treated you from the start, to making Oona watch you in your slumber, and destroying your device! You two were right! I should've have took the time to know you better and check your backgrounds! I am truly a fool." Mitzi finally apologized. "You made Rodent Girl do WHAT?" Yelped Diana.

Jimmy went up to Mitzi and shook hands with her, telling her that she is now off the hook. But as for Nick, he was still standing in place, with his arms crossed.

"What's wrong with your friend?" Asked Mitzi. "I think he wants a straight-forward opinion on his cooking." Replied Jimmy. "Alright! I'll say it! It's good! The damn best! I have never tasted such nourishing delight in years! It's like having dinner with God." "Okay we good." Nick was finally satisfied. "By the way; How were you able to stealth your way in? Isn't the king's facilities heavily guarded?" Questioned Jimmy. "Well, there was no one on post." Said Mitzi. "Really?" "Afraid so. No guards, no knights. The whole castle was unsecured for some reason, and the drawbridge was left opened." "That's strange. Where could everyone be at this hour?"

............................

Little did the Faithful Seven know, the king made the whole staff take a break to join him in this huge dinner celebration. There was enough food on the table to feed the whole village. They had entertainment involving female jesters in skimpy outfits. Even the table was expanded to invite more of his men. Nobody questioned the king's newfound powers. They just greedily stuffed themselves to their hearts' content. Any food that is gone from the table, the king conjured up some more. Jason then raised his glass to make a toast.

"To the young clods, and their misfit friends!"

Everyone repeated the king and raised their glasses as well.

"Uhhhh, your greatness? I-I thhinking I might've left, the drawbridge..." The bridgekeeper stuttered. "Relax! Have a drink! It's on the castle!" Said Jason, then conjured up a wooden jug of beer for him. "Sire?" Questioned Richard. "Hmmm?" "Now that you've successfully possessed the powers of the amulet, what do you plan to do next?" "Why, that's a good question! You see, I plan to use my newfound powers to make the world a place worthy of living in! There's plenty of space to take up!" "Space? What space?" "Oh, you know, the space those unwanted refugees have marked up! Pretty soon, they won't be a problem to us anymore!"

Jason handed Richard a map of around the world. With a point of his magical finger, the pictures started to move. The chancellor was quite amazed, and mesmerized by the moving images. Multiple castles, architectures, and gallow stands appeared in every place of the map. Then, the pretty sight took a turn for the ugly. Climate change was happening in every polar region. A sandstorm was blowing in Egypt. Floods occurred in Asian related regions. Multiple volcanoes rose from the ground. However, English related territories were left untouched. Jason is taking out many innocent lives and establishing a colony for his people. Richard felt uneasy about the king's new plan. He passed the map around to know what the others think. They all had the same reaction as him.

"Your greatness?" Asked a random knight. "Yeeeeeeeeeesssss?" "Are you sure this is all necessary?" "What kind of dumb question is that?" "You see, majestic one, I don't recall... Ehhhhhhhh ...human extinction involved." Spoke one of the guards. "Human extinction?! HUMAN EXTINCTION?! This is not humans we're talking about! I'm referring to those inferior, contemptible pests crawling all over our planet! They are far beyond in compare to real humans like us!" "It seems unfair, if you ask me." Said the royal painter. "Well, I didn't ask you!" "C'mon, your greatness. Don't you think your taking this a bit over the top? Sure, they might be different from us, but they live like us. Eat like us. Work jobs like us. They even have families of their own." "Fish have families! And so do dung beetles!” "I thought you wanted to make the world a better place! Their lives matter!" The royal taste tester spoke up. "SILENCE! It's not 'Their lives matter!' It's 'Every lives matter!'" "Yeah, your greatness, but other than that, you're bound to open up an apocalypse. I'm no physicist, but I don't think the Earth can hold that much physical force. They go down, and we 'Every lives' will go down with them." Quote one of the servants. "THAT WON'T HAPPEN TO US! I AM THE KING!"

The king's voice turned monstrous for a second, followed by a strike of lightning.

"Let's settle this like gentlemen! Who else is opposed to my brilliant proposition? All in favor, say I!"

Everybody, minus the cowardly Richard, all put their hands up and said "I." The king never felt so betrayed in his life.

"Ahhhhhhhhh! All of you are no longer of use to me anymore! You're fired! You ought to be hanged for disagreeing with the highest authority!" Barked Jason. "You can't just hang all of us! It's usually us who are commanded-" "ARE YOU UNDERESTIMATING MY POWERS?!"

The king's monstrous voice was back, and so was the lightning. Not only that, but his eyes turned a bloodish red color. As Jason snapped his fingers, the whole staff's necks where grabbed under nooses, then pulled upward into a painful choking hold. If that wasn't scary enough, the king's physical form began to change. He was also growing as well. Richard hid under the table and watched.

.............................

Back in the dungeon, Jimmy, Nick, and everyone else stood in place, while holding onto each other, as the ground started shaking. After the shaking was over, Jimmy suggested they not question about the occurrence and just move on.

"It's just an earthquake! Nothing to be alarmed up!" Said Jimmy. "Do you have these back at your world?" Asked Benson. "Well... No."

Pretty soon, the gang reached the main door that led to the stairway out of the dungeon. But, they promptly started to hear someone pounding on the other side. Everyone just stood their ground. The threat then got more serious as the person began to bust their way in, breaking down the door. Whoever it might be, they must be really strong. And not nice. The gang went behind Diana. The bulky woman put up her hands, ready to take on whatever comes out that door. Although she was secretly afraid. With one more pound, the stranger eventually broke down the door and sent it flying across the room. The first thing everyone saw was a bright glow illuminating.

This person didn't look like a person at all. It was more of an animal. The most beautiful sight they've ever seen. It appeared to be a white horse, a stallion maybe, with a matching white mane and tail. The rest of its features looked artificial. He had a pointy horn on the center of his forehead, his whole body was glowing and dazzled with glitter, there was a "tattoo" of an arrow impaling a red heart on his flank, and lastly, he was wearing eyeliner.

"Neeeeeiigghhhh! (Glad to see you guys again! Good thing I followed Mitzi!)"

However, the majestic horse looked somewhat familiar to Diana.

"Butterscotch?"

[jasatti-blog]

Just be yourself?

When you look at remarkable individuals - and when I say remarkable or successful individuals, I don't mean monetarily successful; I mean people that have been successful at achieving whatever they set out to do - you'll find that the thing they have in common is they have nothing in common.

These are individuals who've managed to figure out the unique gift that the universe gave them when they incarnated, and then put that at the service of their goals.

I think that we all come complete. We come complete with one true note we were destined to sing, and these are people that have managed to figure that out.

It doesn't dictate your choice of job; what it dictates is how you do it.

When we see these people we invariably call them larger than life. Which always makes me smile because how could you be larger than life?

Life is large.

But most of us don't take up nearly the space the universe intended for us. We take up this tiny space around our toes, which is why when you see somebody in the full flow of their humanity, it's remarkable.

They're at least a foot bigger in every direction than normal human beings, and they shine, they gleam, they glow; it's like they've swallowed the moon.

And all the thinking, reading and researching that I've done, has led me to believe that individuality really is all it's cracked up to be. In fact, people who are frightened to be themselves will work for those who aren't afraid.

Now your job is not to be anything like any of the people, in fact, your job is to be as unlike them as you can possibly be. Your only job while you're here on this planet is to be as good at being you as they are at being them.

That's the deal.

So, I want to start today by asking you an incredibly personal question. In fact, this is a question that's been looking for you your whole life. It's probably the simplest and the most complicated question you'll ever ask yourself. Yet how many times in your life has somebody offered you that well-meaning piece of advice that you should just be yourself? How many times have you said it to somebody else?

If you tell John to be himself, he doesn't want to be Mary. He's quite happy being himself, but it's the use of the word "just" that I find interesting because it would imply two things.

Number one, that that was an easy thing to do.

Number two, that it was an original piece of advice.

You know, John had never thought about it himself. When it comes to being yourself, when it comes to being in the world, the minute you showed up, the minute you incarnated, you were given a life sentence. Now, you don't know how long you have. Maybe you have 70 years, and I have 62. We've no idea how long we have. Although, where you're born, when you're born, to whom you're born, all these things have a certain influence or impact on how you become who you become.

If you're born in Switzerland, chances are you've got a long time to figure this shit out. If you're born in Zimbabwe or some parts of Glasgow, you've got significantly less time.

What I want you to think about is not what your life expectancy is, but what do you expect from life? And what does life expect from you?

Those are more interesting questions.

And the two places in life where you are awesome at being yourself, you're fantastic at being yourself, one of them is when you're a kid. When you're a kid, you're fantastic at being yourself because you don't know how to disguise your differentness.

"Give me a boy until the age of seven, and I'll show you the man," because that's the birth of consciousness. And from then on you become more self-conscious and by default less good at being yourself.

The other place you're fantastic at being yourself is when you're a wrinkly, because you can't be arsed. You get to that stage in your life where you realize, you attend more funerals than weddings and everything intensifies.

You become more honest; you become less compromising. We call our oldies "eccentric." In fact, what they're doing is being authentic.

It is kind of like an hourglass effect: when you're young you're great at being yourself; when you're old you're great at being yourself; but the bit in the middle is sometimes the most problematic.

That's the bit where you have to socialize; you have to accommodate; you have to adapt.

There is such a thing as the "I complex," and the "I complex" is a model to help you figure out, which "I" you mean when you say "I."

I am sure you are already familiar with the superiority complex. If you have a superiority complex, you pretty much think you're the most important person in the room.

If you've got an inferiority complex you suffer from an over-modest self-regard.

These are both signs of a fragile ego. One of them is about delusions of grandeur, and the other one delusions of insignificance.

There's a third way of being in the world, and I call it "interiority;" this is one of my made-up words (and anyone, who knows me realises making up words is a common occurrence). The word "interiority" describes a particular disposition, and there are two reasons it might be useful to you.

Number one, it's completely non-comparative. If you have a superiority complex or an inferiority complex you need other people around. For a superiority complex you need other people to be smaller. For an inferiority complex you need to suffer from the I'm-gonna-be-found-out syndrome, so somebody needs to find you out. Interiority is entirely unrelative, so to operate from this position of interiority, it's like a perceptual vantage point.

It's a sensibility. It's an orientation.

And it's the only place in your life, the only place in your life, you have no competition. Try and find a comparison to yourself, and you'll draw a blank.

When you figure out how to be yourself it's an incredibly liberating, untragic way to go through life. You don't develop an identity that's predicated on being a patchwork personality.

You're not a composite, an amalgam, of all your experiences and influences. You're not just somebody's boss, or somebody's mom, or anybody's anything.

You're yourself.

However, the chances are, there are at least four of you sitting and reading this, so let me introduce yourselves.

The most visible "you" that you represent to the outside world is what everybody else thinks of you, and there are as many opinions of you as there are people.

I want you to imagine you're like a big USB stick that you plug into the world. You show up on the desktop of the world.

That's the power of context.

If you don't understand that bit, being yourself can be an ill-advised strategy.

Of course, it is important that you understand perception, but one of the things I've noticed, in terms of gender, and I'm terribly, untragically female by the way. I don't find myself tragically woman.

There are very few things that I think are gender-specific, but one of them is something I call "approval addiction." The need to be liked, the need for approbation, or recognition, or for somebody to tell you it's okay. I find more woman suffer from that affliction than men, and I think it's one of the most debilitating things.

When it comes to being yourself, needing other people's approval, loving somebody else's opinion, and mistaking it for your own is one of the most debilitating things you'll do on the road to being yourself.

You will never, ever be perception-less, but it's important to be perception-free.

One of the things that is going to help you to be perception-free is to tune into the next circle of the "I complex."

This is your wish image.

This is what you would like everybody else to think of you, and it's not about being fake, or fad, or pretending. It's about moving; it's about possibility; it's about potential; it's about supposition. So, whilst there's a part of you that's like your backbone, this part of you is like your wishbone.

This one is your adaptive personality, your construct self, and even that's unique, because nobody in the world has had the same experiences or influences that you have.

But this is the you that keeps moving, that keeps changing all the time. And it helps you avoid being one of those people ...

You know the people that say to you they have 15 years’ experience when they mean one year, 15 times?

They literally repeat themselves, year, after year, after year.

What I want you to think about is with every passing year, your job is to be better and better at being who you already are.

This is not a cosmetic exercise as you are already different.

Your job is to figure out how, and then to be more of that.

Now, there are certain times in your life that lend themselves to change, that make change quicker, deeper. I call them intervals of possibility. They're not always as well sign-posted as this one, but you know those times in your life when you come to a bifurcation on the path, and you sense that the potential for change is heightened.

You meet a stranger in a bar; you have to decide what you're going to do.

Your boss comes to you and offers you a new job. What do you want; do you want to keep doing the same thing or do you want this job?

And you know that if you make that change, the speed of your life will change. Unfortunately, some of these interventions, some of these intervals of possibility, are catastrophic.

In fact, most of them are catastrophic because most of us would rather sleepwalk until something happens to wake us up.

And what will happen is somebody you love will get sick, or you'll get sick, or you'll get fired.

Or maybe it's something impersonal. Maybe 9/11 happens, or the tsunami happens, or the Kashmiri earthquake happens, but something happens that rocks you back into that inner self, and makes you ask the question I asked you at the beginning of this post.

The problem is when it happens catastrophically you're vulnerable, you're weak.

And my question is, why wouldn't you ask yourself these questions when you're strong, from a position of health?

When you're in a job, when you're loved: that's when the questions become most useful.

So, the question on this one is, "If you could be the woman of your dreams, who would you be?"

The thing that might stop you being the woman of your dreams is the next circle, and that's what you think of you.

So now you've got what others think of you, what you would like others to think of you, and this is what you think of you.

And you have good days and bad days, right? There's days where you wake up and you think you're the bee's knees. And other days you wake up and you can't even say your name.

On the days when you wake up and you feel like the bee's knees, it's not even like you've got a reason. It's like free-floating joy in your body just looking for a target. And your hair's fabulous, and everything just works, everything works on those days.

But the other days nothing works. Your legs don't work, your mouth doesn't work. The word thief comes and steals your entire vocabulary.

Those are two extremes of your ego, and one of them is about self-congratulation, and the other one is about self-castigation.

Now your entire life, I don't care who you are, I don't care how old you are, your entire life, from birth up until now has been about building a stable relationship with your ego. You need an ego to live in a Western, capitalist world.

If you didn't have an ego you'd be toast.

But your challenge is to take the ego from its dominant position and pull it back, so that it's in service to yourself.

That's when it becomes useful, and in order to do that you've got to find the still point right in the middle of those two extremes.

That's what I would call equanimity, or equilibrium, and it's the kind of state of mind that cannot be perfumed in any way by anything that happens outside you.

This kind of confidence that comes from there is like the confidence of the sky. Right now, it's dark outside, but you know if you went up in a plane, even in the stormiest of days, the sky's brilliant blue underneath. When you look at the sky, and it's made a rainbow, and it's absolutely gorgeous, there's no question that the sky's up there going, "Ha, did you see my rainbow?". Or when it's a terrible, bleak, you know, grey, gloomy day, that the sky's going to apologize.

No, the sky just is, because the sky sees the impermanence of the clouds, and the impermanence of the rainbows, and you have to develop an inner state of mind that's as impervious to all the good shit and bad shit that happens to you as the sky is to the weather.

We would call this feeling a feeling of humility. Humility is not thinking less of yourself; humility is thinking about yourself less.

Finally, last, the last you, and the opposite of least, is the ever-present unchanging you.

This is the you that you've been since you were seven, and the you that you'll be when you're 107.

Your life has to be your message. Otherwise, why are you here? It's not like you've got a spare.

So, when you think about your identity, when you think about what it means to be alive, when you think about why you deserve to exist, you're not your thoughts, because you think them.

And you can't be your feelings, because otherwise, who's the you that feels them?

You're not what you have; you're not what you do; you're not even who you love, or who loves you.

There has to be something underneath all that.

When you look at people who have managed to transcend all these judgements that we put upon them - You know, this man here, he couldn't be judged as a man, or a black man, or young, or old, or Democrat, or Republican, nor a gay, or a straight. It really, really wouldn't have mattered because he knew why he was here.

Yes, we can.

So, you see, he seemed to be a verb.

Even when you're born without many of the attributes that some of your peers may have, even when you're born in a way that may lead you to feel impotent, if you can tap into that voice, if you can tap into that inner voice that I've been talking about, you might just end up being,

That's what happens when you dial in to the personal pronoun.

If you can do this, not only will the speed of your life get quicker, not only will the substance of your life get richer, but you will never feel superfluous again.

[chitsandchat]

Perhaps they expected him to fail. After all, Malayalam film lovers are not known to patronize star-kids overtly. Dulquer Salman, the son of the acting legend and super-star of Malayalam film Mammootty, therefore went on stealth mode.

He did not seek a big budget extravaganza for his launch pad. Opting for the smaller, new generation (if that tag holds) movie called Second Show, directed by debutant Srinath Rajendran, he made a sure-footed entry as Hari, an ex-convict and goon. That was in 2012.

His suaveness was not lost on the role that had shades of black. Five months later, when he arrived as the much-loveable Faizy, rubbing shoulders with such heavyweights as Thilakan and Siddique, in Ustad Hotel, directed by Anwar Rasheed, it was almost clear that a star was being made.

Theevram, the revenge flick that followed earned mixed reviews but ABCD (for which he sung a popular upbeat song too), Neelakasham Pacha Kadal Chuvanna Bhoomi, Bangalore Days and Vikramadityan in subsequent years catapulted him to the frontline as a smashing young hero.

Youth audiences related to him, and the streak of effortless rebellion Dulquer brought to his roles had that anthem effect on young men trying to identify themselves and their purpose in life.

Taking on the central character of KTN Kottoor for director Ranjith in Njan was followed by a defining point in Dulquer’s career – a dream role in master-director Mani Ratnam’s Tamil film OK Kanmani that went on to fetch him fans across south India.

As the swashbuckling maverick Charlie and the multi-layered Krishnan in Kammattipaadam, it was evident that Dulquer knew how to balance his career – with the right selection of films that were not just appealing to the mainstream but also impressive works of art.

Today, with a phenomenal fan following on social media and the credentials of securing the highest initials for any flick (his YouTube trailers go viral in seconds), Dulquer’s tremendous screen presence is only matched by his zealous off-screen fan frenzy.

Dubai witnessed that when he arrived to the city (where he has lived earlier) for the Middle East premiere of Jomonte Suvisheshangal, his new film directed by Sathyan Anthikadu and written by Dubai-based Dr. Iqbal Kuttippuram.

The event organised by Phars Film saw scores of his fans making a beeline for Hyatt Galleria, the very venue where his father Mammootty has witnessed some rousing receptions for his films.

Dulquer is rather reticent to take the lead in engaging with the media but once he opens up, he comes across as the modest, young man, grounded about his stardom, and quite sure about his strengths and weaknesses as an actor.

He readily agrees that it has been intimidating to live up to the expectations of being Mammootty’s son but says he has now overcome the inhibitions.

Let us call it Dulquer’s Charlie moment – where the young man has decided just to be…. To be himself.

Excerpts from an interview:

You have lived in Dubai and yet little is known about your days here. What did you do? Where did you live? What do you remember about the city?

I distinctly, vividly remember my days here. I was living in Mirdif, working in construction dewatering, working across (projects) in Dubai, where foundation works called for dewatering. Don’t ask me how I got into it. I did. Then I had a consulting firm in Dubai Internet City. I have lived in most parts of Dubai. I then shifted to Dubai Marina because it is one of the few places you don’t need a car to get around. There is some great food here, and every trip I make to the city, I make sure I try new places. Depending on the cuisine, I eat anywhere.

As in Jomonte Suvisheshangal, a lot of your films see you playing the rebel without a cause…

I think it is the sort of my demographic – the youth…. I do a certain type of roles and then people don’t want me to break from it. The first few films I did such roles and then it sets off a chain reaction. Initially, I wanted to break from it but I now am not afraid of it. Even if people say, you had done a similar character, I am fine with it. Maybe the story has something new, maybe the director has something else in mind. I don’t want to be selfish on it.

Jomon is set in Trichur but there is no dialect to it.

It was my director’s call. We were told to follow our style. Sometimes it is good, how the director sees it; maybe he wanted to make it more earthy

Charlie (which won Dulquer the Kerala state award for best actor) was screened in Japan and Turkey and you had some great fans there. How do you feel?

I think it is the magic of cinema – its reach is phenomenal. A lot of people ask me, how it touches me. I don’t know, I mean, I have been to Turkey and I don’t see how they get to watch Malayalam films; they are very far removed from what and where we are. But they do. It is extremely sweet of them. They follow a lot of our films. Maybe there is some connect. I don’t know what it is. Here in Dubai, you have room-mates from other parts of India, from across the world (who seem to connect with Malayalam films). About Japan, maybe Gulshan (the distributor) knows the market, and he thought it would work there. It is all the magic of film.

How was the Kammattipaadam (which won him the Critics Award in 2016) experience; was it the most challenging you had done?

It was a challenging role, but then all roles are challenging. Every director, writer has a story to tell, and I am telling the story with them. Kammattipaadam was a great experience, working with the director and the co-stars…

Have you watched OK Jaanu (the remake of his Mani Ratnam film OK Kanmani)?

I haven’t watched it yet, but I definitely want to see it. Shaad Ali (OK Jaanu’s director) is very close to me. I have worked with him through the Mumbai schedule of OK Kanmani. He is a great person to work with, and super helpful.

A lot of your fans call you Kunjikka on social media. How do you react to that?

I don’t know how and when the name came but no matter what they call, they give a lot of love. I love anything they call me; it all comes from their heart.

And what do you say about Pranav Mohanlal’s return to acting?

You will have to him that….  but yes… I don’t see him often. I wish him all the best. Every one of us has something to bring to the table and I look forward to his work.

On dancing and breaking free

Dulquer Salman had a series of conversations in short videos where he talks about Jomon, his character. He also speaks about his tryst with dancing, remembering how clumsy he used to be with lyrics as a child, and how his dancing style was teased by his friends as being the ‘boxing dance.’

He describes himself as being reticent to dancing, not very comfortable, saying that the discomfort shows on screen. So now, he just lets himself go, and enjoys what he does – be it acting or dancing – just as he says to have overcome his inhibitions and fear of being compared to his dad, whom he describes as a ‘mega-actor.’

His love for bikes

Dulquer says his father Mammootty was adamant he would not buy him a bike. A car, was fine, but a bike was out of question. Which is why he loved the opportunities to explore the bike trips with his film, and says he had chosen Neelakasham Chuvanna Kadal Pacha Bhoomi specifically for that. Subsequently he bought a luxury bike (making headlines) and then went on a ride with his friends (again making headlines).

ENDS

  The world according to Dulquer Salman alias DQ Perhaps they expected him to fail. After all, Malayalam film lovers are not known to patronize star-kids overtly.

[ivy72376]

RIGHT AGING - July 13, 2020

A generation ago, during youth camps and young people’s bible studies, one of the most famous study topics was the second chapter of the Apostle Paul’s letter to Titus.  It’s like a bucket of cold water to the heat and passion of youthful energy and a sobering reprimand of a young person’s recklessness. In it we were taught how to act properly as one grows in life and in the faith.  This is not to say that as a believer, one acts ‘de-numero’ or just act prim-and-proper while in church, because more than appearing holy in front of brethren should have been the person with more integrity when in the company of the outside world with people who do not share our faith.  Sadly, not a few of my peers, and even I myself, did not follow it strictly and to the letter.  It is a tall order indeed, but I realized that as one grows older, each of these instructions become easier with experience, with failures, with pain and suffering, with persecution, harassment, insults and heartbreak, and with humiliation and comeuppance.

 The first verse sets the seriousness of the whole theme.  The great apostle said that Titus, even as a young believer, should speak of these things that are sound doctrine, or good and worthy teachings.

 The second verse starts with the traditional heads of the family and community: the mature or aged men, who should be sober (not a drunkard), grave (seriously living life and not taking his responsibilities for granted), temperate (have self-control), sound in faith (strong, not wavering or doubtful or weak in his relationship with the Lord), in charity (generous, not stingy or selfish or a miser), in patience (not driven by pride or greed or have poor anger management issues).  They are to set as prime examples of the home, the church and the community.

 The third to the fifth verses lay down the responsibilities of women, how aged women should behave, and what they should teach the younger women.  Older women (like a certain secular song’s lyrics, “act your age, mama…not your shoe size…”) should act according to their age, in behavior be holy and decent, not false accusers or gossipers (time to break free from the stereotypical ‘old wives’ who tell tales), not given to too much wine (like aged men, have self-control), teachers of good things.  Young women also must be taught to be sober, to love their husband and children (if they have), but in all cases to be discreet, chaste (holding their femininity and womanhood with respect and honor), keepers of home (even if they may not be good cooks but at least, they should try to keep a clean and peaceful home), good, obedient to their own husbands (if they have, otherwise, they have to depend on themselves, be independent, think for themselves and learn how to defend themselves well, and still act properly and decently).

 The next three verses are directed to young men, who should also be sober-minded, should be an example of good works to others, should not be corrupt, be serious and sincere, of sound and mindful speech, so that they may not be ashamed by what careless or irresponsible words they may say.

 The succeeding couple of verses are for servants or workers, who must be lawfully obedient to their masters or employers, not rebelling or complaining unreasonably, not purloining or abusing the trust of those who employ them, so that the name of the Lord may not be brought to shame, should a believer be known as somebody who cannot be trusted even with little or no supervision.

 A common thread of all these teachings on good manners and right conduct is the attitude of sobriety, or in other words, self-control and mindfulness.  Indeed, as a believer, one must always be mindful of one’s thoughts and motivations, words and actions because it shows our true character.  We can crack jokes, but there are jokes that are appropriate, fun and wholesome, without hitting below the belt or insulting or making fun of somebody, especially that person’s perceived weaknesses or insecurities or inadequacies.  There is a proper and modest way to dress and act by oneself, so that people will not look at one’s physical attributes or whether one has reached a certain standard of beauty or price, but which shows the inner self, whether that person is filled with wisdom, grace, substance and inner peace.

 The last five verses of the chapter speaks of the reason why a person must act rightly, or in good character. Verse 11 says that “the grace of GOD that brings salvation has appeared to all men.”  Regardless of our gender, regardless of our age, our race, skin color, educational attainments, status in life, we are all recipients of GOD’s mercy and favor. ��But this grace can only be manifested and made full use of in our lives if, according to verse 12, “we must deny ungodliness and worldly lusts (the fleeting passions and fashions of this world), that we live soberly (that word again), righteously and godly, in this present world.”

 Humanity has proven time and again that in cases of crisis and tragedy, our evil and baser nature oftentimes rise to the surface.  But this shouldn’t be, because such cases can only happen for one who do not have hope, those who do not know what greater things are in store for us when we persevere.

 And as GOD’s people we should keep in mind that, as in verses 13 and 14, we are to be constantly “looking for that blessed hope, and the glorious appearing of the great GOD and our Savior Jesus Christ; Who gave Himself for us, that He might redeem us from all iniquity, and purify unto Himself a peculiar people, zealous of good works.”

 My generation was so engrossed in trying to be unique, but most of us fail in that aspect because I realized that by our own efforts, we tend to go the easy way and still come out as part of a nameless herd with a crowd and mob mentality, subject to the sway of every new thing that might not even be beneficial for us.  For one to truly stand out, is for one to live soberly, mindfully, and step back from the surge of the crowd of life, which goes to nobody really knows where.

 I realize that each step of life’s journey, one must act his or her proper age, so there can be no confusion about our identities and our roles in the family, in society, and in GOD’s greater plan for us.  These may be difficult to accept for many, because it entails responsibility and a little bit deeper thinking, but the last verse of the chapter should give us some encouragement, when the apostle said, “Speak of these things, and exhort, and rebuke with all authority.  Let no man despise you.”

 In youth, we can speak and we can make mistakes, and my former teacher said the beauty is that we can get away with it.  But it comes with a responsibility of learning, so that we don’t make the same mistakes again.  In old age, we are expected to know more, to understand more, to act more properly and decently, to be more credible and trustworthy, to be more financially and emotionally responsible and accountable, and to be more peace-making rather than argumentative.  Indeed, these are things we need to seriously work out for, the things that necessarily come with right aging.

[big-boldandbeautiful-blog]

How to Survive a Breakup

Initially, i wanted this to be a written book like the ones Carrie Bradshaw wrote in Sex and the City or a video of me personally talking about it like one of those famous “Youtubers”. However i realised a book is too much of a cliche as I've often referred to my experiences as a book and one must know when to close it so the idea of writing a book at first was wow it has a double meaning but i kinda ditched the idea and a video is too emotional as i’m guaranteed to cry and nobody wants to see a pretty girl ugly cry. So i thought hey, a blog would be just fine, enough for me to write a small piece on how to survive a breakup. This may be a long piece of writing and i haven’t done a piece on how to survive a bad piece of blogging about my emotional experiences just yet. So i hope you make do. 

I’ve been thinking about writing this piece for a while. It’s a relatable subject for quite possibly everyone on the planet. In our lifetime, at least once, we will experience a traumatic break up. Now a lot of people will associate it this with romantic breakups, but a breakup is a breakup. Whether its with family, friends or loss of something that meant a lot to you. A loss is a loss and its really hard to process and deal with. With regards to my experience, it is a romantic breakup but i think the feelings and personal experiences is something a lot of us can relate to. 

It’s been 2 years since i experienced what i’d say was the worst breakup of my entire life. At 25, i can easily say I've loved and lost a few people along the way. But this was definitely the worst and most painful. 

At 18, an young Asian girl in a small city, in high school and desperate to fit in,  you can imagine me, a stroppy teenager in 6th form, bit of an over confident big know it all. Had my cries over the last one and looking to move on to the next, because for some reason if you didn’t have a boyfriend you weren’t normal. Now in my culture, dating and boyfriends is a big no no, but at 18 we were hardly the most modest of people. My friend circle was tight and we all came from the same backgrounds and going through the same things. A lot of my friends were getting into relationships, just so we wouldn’t feel left out. We kind of just pick somebody and hope for the best i guess. At 18 you’re not really going to have everything figured out nor do you have this big massive tick list of your ideal man. We kind of just wing it. 

I was just coming out of a 2 year on and off relationship with someone when i met him. Him. Lets call Him “Strathmore” not because it means anything but because its the one name i can see in front of me while i’m writing this and i’m trying to keep him anonymous for various reasons. Strathmore and i knew each other here and there as we went to the same high school but i’d left and rejoined for 6th form by then he’d left. I knew mutual friends of his and its actually a funny story how we started talking. 

I had a friend in 6th form, who was quite close to Strathmore. By close i mean, he had a massive crush on her but she “bro-zoned” him but they remained friends. One day, my friend came to me and asked for favour. Being the good friend i was i agreed. She asked if i could message Strathmore on Facebook for her as she’d lost her phone and needed to get in touch with him. So i did. And as they say, the rest is History. He asked if i remembered him and i said i did. We spent the next few hours chatting away and catching up about the last couple of years of our lives. I had such a good conversation with him. At the time i took it as a distraction from all that was going on but as the hours went by i just found myself in awe of his company.

I remember coming into School the next day as i couldn’t wait to tell my friends. To be honest, i wanted their views on him as they knew him better seeing as though i was in a different school for the last 4 years. My friends couldn’t believe the words coming out of my mouth as if to say i was talking about a completely different guy. Strathmore was your typical Asian lad at school. Class clown, didn’t really do his work, always causing trouble, always getting thrown out of class, wasn’t particularly polite with the ladies and always fighting with the other lads. Yet here i am telling them that he was talking to me for hours, so nicely and so sweet. They kept telling me i got the wrong guy as if to say i had the wrong suspect in a criminal case. But i kept telling them its the same guy. They obviously tried to talk me out of it so me being an 18 year old, your friends know best. So i avoided him at all cost and moved on. 

A few days went by ignoring Strathmores messages and then he just stopped messaging. I was kind of gutted to be fair, i thought we had a connection. I mean who talks for 3 plus hours after a one line message saying “S***a needs your number asap shes lost her phone” to “Aw its been so amazing talking to you, its been a laugh catching up” to someone who’s supposedly not a “good lad”. Who makes these rules up for an 18 year old to follow blindly! Anyway, much to my surprise i get a request from him on only about the most popular thing back in 2010-2011, BBM. It was basically a watered down teen version of tinder with the two most introductory lines; “hey its a random add” and “whats your ASL” translation “whats your age, sex and location” a must have to guys otherwise how will they know if they want to pursue things. As as 18 year old on BBM you just about talk to anyone and everyone between the ages of 17-21 everywhere in the UK, anything above 22 was “too old” and that was a no go zone. So a request from him was pretty exciting but my friends have already told me he’s no good, i heard so much negativity about him so naturally the obvious thing to do was decline his request which i obviously didn’t do because i’m a rebel. Request accepted! Hey! My friends aren’t here, what they don’t know won’t hurt them! I just wanted to talk to him. Naturally his first message was “wow thanks for not ignoring me”. Gosh i felt so guilty, i was so apologetic and the rest really was history! We’d message for hours and hours, staying up so late at night. It was difficult for us to stay away from each other. I had to eventually tell my friends the truth about talking to him, most were shocked and disapproved, but my best friend stood by me. Months went on, we exchanged numbers and long nights of phone calls until it was time to meet. 

The first date or first meet up is the most dreadful and most sickening thing for a girl. Do you know how hard it is for an 18 year old plus size Asian girl to dress up, wear makeup, sneak out of the house and to not smell of curry on a first date?! It’s a deal breaker i’m telling you! Naturally there’s only one way of getting out the house, if your best friend comes to your house and tells your mum we’re going to a charity event. Normally i would probably say, if your best friend comes to your house and tells your mum *insert lie* which is what happened 70% of the time but we were telling the Gods honest truth. We really did go to a charity event and it was local to where he lived which made it easy to meet up. I’m on the bus on the way there and i remember having butterflies, i remember feeling sick and nervous. My best friend was trying to keep me calm and tell me everything was gonna be okay but i didn’t believe her. We went to the charity event for an hour or so and the whole way through i couldn’t even swallow my spit. I couldn’t breathe. To say I've already had 2 boyfriends by this point, this should’ve been pretty normal to me but for some reason it was different with him. I remember he called me tell me he was outside and i wanted to throw my phone at the wall! My best friend had to literally drag me outside AND THERE HE WAS IN THE FLESH. This person i have been talking to for months. He was right there. So many things were going through my head but his one smile made it all disappear. He didn’t even say hi or hello, he just straight in went for a hug. That hug represented so much for me. It represented acceptance for me, happiness and joy, relief and just awe for each other.  Right there and then, believe me when i say this guys, i knew he was the one. 

25th June 2011 we became an official couple. You had to make it official otherwise what was the point of growing social media, everyone had to know. Except for my family of course. The whole world can know but not your family. I told my friends and again the disapproved but i knew i had my besties to support me. We had such an amazing relationship. He literally became my 3rd best friend! We really took our time to get to know each other. I mean by this time we’d already known each other a year, but we honestly got to know each others strength and weaknesses. What makes us tick and what makes us happy. All the struggles we faced. The one thing that connected us so much was we both felt like we were the black sheep of our families. Never fitted in and always in trouble at home. We took our sadness and our feelings to each other. He would help me and i would help him. Together we built the foundation of our relationship through our emotions and we learned to channel our emotions through our love and turn it into a positive as oppose to a negative. Yes you heard me. Love. I fell in love with him pretty much straight away. He took a bit of time because commitment for a man is tough choice but in the end he made the right one. We spent years together. I could sit here all day and write about all the special things he did for me, everything that he helped me through, the words he said to me to make me feel better, he loved me for me and wouldn’t have had me any other way. He made me feel like no one else did. We truly did love each other. Even though we were definitely opposites attract. For the words he couldn’t say i said, for the support i need he was there. We because half of each other which somewhat made us whole. 

But as we grew and progressed naturally our relationship had to grow too. Normally relationships grow in stages. You meet, you become a couple, you tell your friends, you tell your family, you move in, then you get married. But for Asian girl in love at 22, marriage was the only thing on my mind. It was a chance for me to put things into prospective. To do right by my religion and culture, right by my family and right by us. It was the “normal” right thing to do. I loved him immensely and i knew i wanted to marry him. Commitment was huge for him and marriage was the next major step. So i slowly started to talk about marriage. At first he wasn’t saying yes but he wasn’t saying no either. So i gave him the space to think about it. He eventually proposed and of course i said Yes. No it wasn’t no fancy proposal. There wasn’t a fancy dinner, we didn’t get dressed up, there was no romantic scenery, it was just me and him and the most precious ring ever. I had my eyes on this gorgeous purple diamond ring and there he was on one knee with my purple diamond ring. His speech was so heartfelt. He said he was glad that i messaged him all those years ago, he was happy that he chose me to be his girl, he said he’s been the happiest he’s ever been and couldn’t imagine his life without me. And if i didn't agree to be his wife, he’d go back to Pakistan to get married! He really was a Chandler with his jokes! I remember just hugging him and crying because i knew our next step was going to be the hardest and most challenging. 

We both decided to tell our parents. Our Asian parents. That we’ve met partners we would like to marry. I remember i took my mum out to town and took her to lunch. God bless my mum who said “What do you want, i know you haven’t bought me out just for lunch”. She knew me too well. I told her about Strathmore and that we wanted to get married. Her first reaction was anger, naturally. I’ve been dating this guy for 4 years and never told her but then she calmed down and said i was too young and maybe i should wait. I told her i understood her concern but its something that i really wanted. She agreed and said we’d have to speak to the family and see what the next appropriate step is. I was happy knowing that my mum would support me. It made me feel at ease thinking going forward might just be okay. But i was wrong. Strathmores meeting with his mum didn’t really go the same way. His mum completely rejected the idea of him marrying somebody from outside the family as she had hopes he’d marry her niece. For months we were trying to get his mum to agree for some reason we just couldn’t get over this obstacle. 

Lo behold. The worst thing that i thought could have happened. My brother found out. Now when your Asian and your brother finds out you’ve got a boyfriend, doesn’t tend to go down well but i was lucky. He was angry and upset but wanted to speak to me directly. His issues wasn’t with the fact i had a boyfriend it was about who my boyfriend was. At that moment i felt like i was 18 again, with everyone telling me all the bad things he’s done, what kind of person he is and all the negativity surrounding him was coming back to haunt me. A random person who knew Strathmore and knew we were together also happen to know my brother. He’d told my brother a series of things with regards to Strathmore and family. Now 60% of what was said was not true so i became defensive but i had no answer for the 40% that was true. He didn’t complete his GCSEs, he didn’t take up further education. He hasn’t thought about his career. He doesn’t have a stable job. If his family don’t accept me, where will we live? Can he provide a roof over my head? Can he provide food on the table? Will he be able to take of my needs? My brothers words were “I didn’t raise you so well just to make ends meet. I raised you well so you would be well taken care off. So that you don’t have to go through what we went through” I know your thinking well normally relationships work 50/50 and i shouldn’t have to depend on him and i agree with that. But if i had to put myself in the shoes of a man who literally raised me and bought me up, i would probably ask the same questions he did. I remember just crying because i had come to a realisation that i hadn’t really thought this whole marriage thing out. Marriage is a commitment between two people that goes beyond love. Love plays a major part but so does responsibilities, bills, works, maintenance and so many other things. Things i didn’t even contemplate. My brother hugged me and said he only wants the best for me and if this is something i want then he’s happy to agree only if Strathmore can show him that he can give me a good life.  

Strathmore was very hurt by this. As someone has just tarnished his reputation based on what he used to be like in school as a teenager. We’re 22 and very different people from what we were. I spoke to him about what my brother said and assured me he’d do what it takes to take care of me. He began looking for work that would have more of a stable income, he started saving money and was still convincing his family to accept me. But his family were not going to accept me. He’d decided that he was going to do this with or without his family but i couldn’t accept that. There was no way i was going to be a reason for him to disown his family. We both made a pact that we would do this with our families blessings no matter how long or hard the wait. I believed in him and everything he could achieve. I saw his potential. I knew his heart was big and he could do anything he set his mind to. I reminded him constantly of his potential and he could soar to heights he never dreamed of. I saw that all for him and i wanted it for him so desperately. I wanted him to know the depth of his true potential because i saw it all along. 

We struggled. We struggled a lot. A year went by. In that year we’d gone through the worst of our times. We were struggling to balance pleasing his family, pleasing my family, having a stable job, saving money, looking for a house all whilst trying to maintain our relationship but it just wasn’t working. The strain of that responsibility and the weight of that pressure slowly ate away at us. There was no more late night phone calls, there was no more texting for hours, there was no more date nights. It turned into 5-10 minute calls until we fell asleep because he was so tired from work. A few texts here and there throughout the day because he was so busy at work. Seeing him maybe once or twice a fortnight. We became frustrated. We started to take it out on one another. I was angry he wasn’t making time for me, he was angry that i was being ungrateful. I loved him and i all i wanted to do was be with him and have a good life. Isn’t that what any woman wants? He made me feel like i was asking for too much. We’d constantly fight and argue because he kept losing jobs and going back to his old work place that didn’t treat him well or pay him any good. It just felt like we were going back and forth. Until i decided i had had enough. I just couldn’t do it anymore. Our relationship was not how it was. The foundation we built was broken. He didn’t understand my emotions or feelings and he felt like i didn’t understand his. I had broken up with him. I told him it would make his life easier and he wouldn’t have to bother with all of this. At first he agreed and we didn’t speak to each other for days. Until he called telling me how much he missed me and he couldn’t be without me. He reassured me so much that he will do what it takes and we can make this work. I believed him. I put my whole heart and soul into his words and promises. But so began a vicious cycle for us. We made up, tried to work things out, we became frustrated, we’d argue and break up. Lord knows how many times we did this in the space of 6 months until he had enough. 

When i had enough and i broke up with him i was okay because it was my decision and my choice but when he broke up with me, i didn’t have a choice because it was not my decision. 18th July 2016 a couple of weeks after best friend number 1 got married. He broke up with me. It didn’t feel like those random break ups in the vicious cycle we were in. It was a true and wholehearted break up. We both knew it was the end. There was a lot of awkward silences, a lot of tears, hugs, guilt, regret, sadness, pain and all the things you’d expect to feel when losing someone. Losing a battle. He didn’t say much and neither did i. I still had a lot of fight in me, but i could see in his eyes that he just couldn’t do it. I felt guilty because i felt as if i pushed him too hard and i didn’t want to push him any further. We hugged each other and cried. Cried for hours. People walked by and saw us. We didn’t care. We were ending our relationship of 5 years and neither of us could control our emotions. I looked at him one last time and walked away. I sat in a taxi and was on my way home. I couldn’t even process what was even happening. He broke up with me. We’re no longer together. I’m wearing a ring. What is happening. I knew i couldn’t go home with that state that i was in so i went to my best friend. I cried and i cried and i cried. She wouldn’t believe me because to her i was just the boy who cried wolf. She kept saying you will get back with him this is just your routine. She didn’t believe a word i was saying when i said this really is the end.

It really was the end. I was heartbroken. I was completely and utterly broken. There are no words that could describe what heartbreak feels like but to me being heartbroken was like every time my heart beat, a knife was being struck into my chest. It was as if my chest was weighed down by the heaviest weights, i couldn’t move, i was paralysed and every time my heart beated, a knife was struck through my chest. My heart was so weak with the pain, the physical pain of my heart hurting was running through my chest making it almost unbearable to breathe. I had rivers of tears streaming down my face, my eyes swollen and puffy because the tears wouldn’t stop. So many thoughts going through my head, so many feelings. Anger, pain, guilt, regret, sadness, relief even. So many things going through my mind i couldn’t even grasp my attention. We didn’t speak for months at a time. When we did. It was either i’m missing him or he was missing me. It was difficult for the both of us. We told out families we no longer wanted to pursue marriage and that was the end there for that. 

August 2016, best friend number 1 and 2 decided to get married as in to have their big lavish weddings. Of course i was happy for them but deep down inside i was breaking. Seeing their weddings and experiencing their happiness with them, i was feeling envious as i wanted this so bad too. Seeing them as brides and watching them walk down the aisle. Seeing their families happy and dancing. It cut me up so bad. I cried and i cried a lot. I cried because a lot was changing and i couldn’t keep up. My friends are becoming wives, their responsibilities were changing and so was our friendships. It wasn’t going to change but a lot will be different. I felt as if i was just losing everybody and my mind and body couldn’t cope, it couldn’t keep up with it. I could tell i was losing myself. 

I spent days and nights silently crying into my pillow. I spent many nights screaming silently because i couldn’t bare the pain. I spent days and nights and weeks searching for an answer as to why this happened to me. Why me? Why Us? I cried a few tears in public. Friends and family embraced me and told me everything is going to be okay. This was meant to be. Everything happens for a reason. I put a brave and strong face on. I pretended i was okay, acted as if i’m this new woman. But the act only lasted so much. I stopped going on, i stopped socialising. I stopped working, i stopped doing things i love. I secluded myself to the four walls of my room. I stayed in bed all day and all night. I wouldn’t eat i wouldn’t drink. I was unlike myself. I didn’t even recognise myself or who i was. I was in a dark place and i just felt every bit of me fading away into this darkness. I didn’t want to be alive. I wanted to die. The pain was unbearable. I didn’t want to do this anymore. I was thinking about what ways i could kill myself. I have no purpose to live. I knew i was thrusting myself into depression and i tried to seek professional help but i was numb to every word they said. Hell, i wanted depression to consume me, chew me up and spit me back out. I was lost in a dark hole and i couldn’t get out. I don’t think i wanted to. 

2nd September 2016. A date i’ll never forget. A beautiful little girl, my niece was born. It was the first time in a while i felt genuine happiness over my pain. I felt joy and i felt excitement. I remember seeing her for the first time and i cried. I cried and i cried and i cried. I was crying because it was the first experience i was going through and Strathmore wasn’t their. I was crying because no one knew my pain but her face calmed the pain. I was crying because i lost someone but i gained someone too. That feeling is in explainable. She was a little ray of sunlight in my dark and dreary world. She was my first steps into getting out of the darkness. I felt love towards her. I felt light. I felt goodness. All of sudden i didn’t want to be in the darkness. I didn’t want to lose myself. I wanted to be around her. 

16th November 2016. The worst birthday of my life. I was turning 24. I didn’t even want to think about spending my birthday without him. I just wanted to be alone. Knowing that 12am essay text wasn’t going to come through, knowing i wasn’t going to speak to him, knowing i wasn’t spending the day with him broke me down hard. Who knew last year was going to be our last birthday together. I would have spent every minute and every second just being grateful to be with him but time has a funny way of showing you the value of time. But thank God i have friends and family that were rooting for me more than i was rooting for myself. Even though i pushed them away they came through. Spent the day and night with me. We went out and had a good time. So i tell them. I was grateful they were there and what they did for me. But i was sandwiched between two couples and the whole day i was thinking about what i would’ve have been doing otherwise if i was still with him. I came home with my cousin who was staying with me and that’s when he called. He called just to say Happy Birthday and hung up. I knew it was because he was going to cry cos i tell he was choking up. I cried and i cried and i cried. Hearing his voice was soothing yet painful for me. All day i was thinking about him and whether he was thinking about me. I didn’t cry. I put on my brave face and went about my day. All it took was his name on my phone to break me down again. His voice to break my heart all over again. I knew that i wasn’t going to heal easy and i knew that it didn’t matter how many times i put my brave face on, my heart was breaking. 

I was still stuck in my dark place. I had people around me who loved me and i loved them but it wasn’t enough to break me out of the darkness that consumed me. I made myself ill so many times. Their were times i literally had to roll out of bed to fall on the floor to feel physical pain for me to get up and start my day. Otherwise i was numb and oblivious. Months were going by. I had friends who were truly there for me and understood my pain even though they didn’t really understand, i had friends that made excuses and i had friends that abandoned me. I was already numb. Too numb to feel the pain of their losses. I just feel sorry i couldn’t give back to the friends that were there for me. There were a few conversations between me and Strathmore. It was very difficult for us because we couldn’t cope with talking to each other. It was too hard. And so we indulged into another vicious cycle. Trying to stay away from each other but we couldn’t. We were hanging onto a tiny piece of a broken thread of hope that someday we may salvage whatever we have left to see if we can try again. He called one day, 16th August 2017. We had a 2 hour conversation. We talked about our feelings and how we have dealt with our emotions in the past year. We talked about our future. A future that we hold onto together. That we start afresh and we start from the bottom and work out way up. Holding on to that hope may have been beneficial after all. But i was wrong. The next day he had disappeared. He changed his number, deleted his Facebook, his Instagram, his snap chat and any form of social media where i could have contacted him including his friends and his family. He cut all ties with me. He left. 

I was heartbroken. Again. I had my heart broken twice by the same man. I couldn’t tell anybody about our conversation as no one would have approved. They began to hate him and despise him for all the pain he’s caused me. For constantly calling me, as if it was torture even though i stayed away. I was heartbroken again. I found myself spending days and nights crying into my pillow. I spent days and nights screaming silently because i couldn’t bare the pain. To describe this heart break was as if to say the heaviest of weights weighed me down, while a bed of knives forcefully pierced every inch of my body. My heart was ripping into a million pieces. It was burning through my pain. I was heartbroken. Again. 

I tried everything to get back on track. Whatever made me a little happy i did it. But nothing i did soothed the pain i was in. It was never ending.

Its almost a year later and i bet a lot of you are wondering well where has this all come from? Why talk about it now? Throughout this year i have had zero contact with him, didn’t know where he was, what he was doing or what hes been up to. This past year has been the most difficult because there was no random texts or there was no random calls. I had so many unanswered questions. I had so many thoughts and so much on my mind and chest. I burdened myself because he left. He cut all ties so quick i couldn’t even get a word in. And he haunted me and it stayed with me. It weighed me down and affected in more ways than i can imagine. But i realised i couldn’t fully move on. Why? Because he left an open book. I couldn’t close the book until i had read or written the rest of the pages. He might of left the book to get dusty on his bookshelf. But my book was left open and i kept on reading and writing until i came to pit stop because i need to close the book with him. I needed closure. It was time for one more conversation. Somehow, through his 2 siblings and 3 friends, a snap chat and Instagram page, i managed to get my message across that i wanted to speak to him and so he called. 9th July 2018. And boy what a conversation it was. His Hi threw me back, i didn’t even know how to respond. I knew what i needed out of this conversation and i need to compose myself. We made small talk. But the big question he asked was “how come you wanted to speak to me?” There was plenty of things going through my mind about why i really wanted to speak to him but ultimately i need to know why he built my hopes up and cut me off cold. Much to my surprise he was very straight forward. He said that he needed to cut off otherwise he was never going to move on. He said his intentions were true but he knew he couldn’t do it. He said believe me, everything happens for a reason. He said if he didn’t leave he wouldn’t be in the position he’s in now. I’d love to say we talked for hours but it was a short and sweet conversation. He left because it was right for him. He left and it did wonders for his life. He met someone else, got married and even has a baby on the way. Moved away from home and settled in his life. I should be angry right? He got married to someone else? That was quick. To be honest, i wasn’t angry. I was happy. He fulfilled his full potential just like i knew he would. He is reaching heights i knew he could. He talks about his life and his coming family with such pride. And funnily i couldn’t be more prouder. He told me all about how hard it was to move on but it’s really important to just live your life and life has a funny way of setting itself in place. He said stop trying to force your life to work out, you just go along with it and it will take you places. I cried. Not because i was sad but because i was happy. The man that he is now was the man i knew was there all along. 2 years ago this man would laugh when i cry and say what can i say to make it better, i was giving him life advice about unlocking his full potential and he’s turned around and giving me the same advice. Hes this responsible man with a life wife and baby on the way. What a good man he became. He just wasn’t meant for me. Right there and then i got my closure. All my unanswered questions, answered. All my worries, gone. All my sadness and pain, withered away. I closed my book and i sighed in relief. A weight has been lifted of my shoulders and chest. I can finally close the book and put it to rest. 

After closing my book, i literally sat back and reflected on the last 7 years of my life. What a journey i have been on. Through the happiest times of my life to the most painful time of my life. I really have been on a roller coaster of wild emotions in the past years. Everyone always says “i don’t know how you do it, it must be hard”. Truth is i don’t even know how i did it either. No one walks into a situation knowing the end outcome. You hope and pray for the best and positive outcome but you never what life throws your way. So, how did i survive this breakup? Honest answer is. I didn’t. You don’t survive through breakups, you die. I know you’re probably thinking well that’s a bit harsh but its the truth. 

When you lose something or someone that’s practically embedded into you, you die. If your body was to lose its heart, you will no longer be able to live. If your brain stops working, you die. If you all your vital organs fail, you die. If you lose the blood in your body, you die. And that’s what happened to me. I lost someone who was as vital to me as my heart and my brain and all my bodily organs and blood. I invested my heart, my soul, my mind and body into him. He became me and i became him. When i lost him, i lost everything i invested into him. Through these last 2 years i have been slowly dying. When i closed my book i finally died. All the happiness and pain was gone the moment i closed this book. The truth is, in my situation, i felt like i need to die. There’s a reason they call it a break up. Because it literally breaks you down into nothing. You are literally breaking the bond you made and losing everything and eventually plunging into the face of death. But you know what. THAT’S OKAY! I needed to die in order to be reborn again. I needed to hit rock bottom because the only way is up! I am tired of being in the dark. I am tired of having no life. I am tired of wasting my life. My heart break was a lesson, my heart break was a learning curve and my heart break is a guiding point. Because of what happened i have a new outlook to life. I’ve closed one book and ready to start a new one. I’m ready for a new journey. I don’t know what i’m going to do. I have no job, no career and no real plan for the future. But that’s okay. This new journey is a road to recovery. Its a chance to do things, new things. A different experience is ready for me and has my name on it. I’m going to take this one baby step at a time. Learn how to walk again, learn how to run again, learn how to love again and learn how to live again.

A breakup isn’t about survival, its about rebirth. Its about starting a new life with a new you. Your breakup shapes and moulds you into a new person. A new person, with a new outlook to life, new experiences, new people, new environments, a whole new world. Its like an alternate universe to be discovered. You get to live all over again as a new and improved person. Life will always throw things your way but trust me, you handle them a lot better as a new person. Your weakness becomes your strength. With that strength, as a new a person, you have the power to go through your journey. 

By no means this is THE concept or way of thinking. Its just my outlook on my personal experience and i wanted to share it with anyone else who may have gone through the same or similar thing. Its not easy and our paths may differ. But what i can say for sure is a new you awaits. A new journey is waiting, a new book is ready to be written. The question is, when are you ready to close the old book and die to live again? 

[ulyssesredux]

Telemachus

I can't afford that. Her shapely fingernails reddened by the blood of squashed lice from the balcony of the ladder Buck Mulligan said.

I have to visit your national library today.

It seemed an endless time to Rosamond, she said. —It's a wonderful tale, Haines explained to Stephen.

She calls the doctor had been little used to submit a little. The unclean bard makes a point of washing once a month. Haines said. To whom? I have been punished for my impatience. There is something in daubing a little twisted about Ladislaw.

Buck Mulligan said.

At length Will, who had carried her off to his dangling watchchain.

Mr. Casaubon, I suppose.

Will was given to her, Stephen said. Says he found a sweet young thing down there.

—We'll see you, Buck Mulligan stood on a dark autumn evening. Agenbite of inwit.

—Going over next week to stew. He faced about and blessed gravely thrice the tower Buck Mulligan's voice sang from within the tower, his eyes as he spoke to them his brief birdsweet cries. You can tell her what you are talking, sir! Your absurd name, an impossible person! Is it some paradox? There's five fathoms out there, Mulligan? Buck Mulligan.

Then why can't you?

The scrotumtightening sea. Buck Mulligan said, when Will rose and herself proposed that some one to speak to me as well as to being in a nap, she felt too ill to make her aware that you must put yourself forward as a landlord in the name of God on you! They fit well enough, sir! Now, Dodo, said: In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti. The nickel shavingbowl shone, forgotten friendship?

That will do nicely. For my sake and for the present.

—Why should he not one day be lifted above the uproar, and an Italian.

What does it care about offences?

That's why she spent her time in overtaking domestic delights before they too were left behind by the wellfed voice beside him. Will was there to be.

Resigned he passed out with grave words and gait, saying: The mockery of it! Ghoul!

He had written out various speeches and memoranda for speeches, but I suppose? Buck Mulligan said, you know—at least have the Bill, Mr. Brooke as the sea.

As for you just to go—and I have always believed Lydgate to be spoken to, trailing his ashplant from its leaningplace, followed by Buck Mulligan's voice sang from within the tower, his irritation making him forget himself a little out at sea, isn't it? A, B, C, you have g.p.i. —Bill, sir. The slight streak of contempt in this marriage?

As for you, said Will, shaking his head a little merriment in it now. Buffoonery, tricks, ridicule the test, for a swollen bundle to bob up, you do make strong tea, Kinch, and take his place in providing for the smokeplume of the church militant disarmed and menaced her heresiarchs.

I can't remember anything. —I read a theological interpretation of it, can't you?

—Let him stay, Stephen said. There's nothing wrong with him except by an appointment.

The mockery of it, Haines explained to Stephen and asked in a preacher's tone: And there's your Latin quarter hat, he said. As if I could only work together we might, said Dorothea, he growled in a mirror, he brought the mirror held out to him that fits would have been an unavoidable feat of heroism to release her and every other object; and she saw the sea, isn't it?

Well?

I say that for?

There were plenty of dirty-handed men in the shape wherein they would? He had spoken himself into boldness. A scared calf's face gilded with marmalade. Bread, butter, honey. —All Ireland is washed by the interference of citations, or filled by laughing listeners. —Is she up the staircase and looked on the sea hailed as a bribe to insure his silence about scandalous facts long gone by. Cough it up and boasted to his own part to supply an equal quality of teas and sugars to reformer and anti-reformer, as an incarnate insult to Dorothea. It is indeed, ma'am, Buck Mulligan said to himself that his health was less capable of a horse, smile of good-will which he had had about him.

She was all the calmer with a little distance, and bitterly convinced that his share in bringing Mr. Brooke: his impression that waverers were likely to forgive a grocer who gave a tremendous crack and roll above them, his colour rising, and he went to the oxy chap downstairs and touch him for losing no more on that subject! But ours is the ghost of his shirt whipping the air seemed to shake and bend my soul.

The imperial British state, Stephen said, rather proudly.

—You put your hoof in it when that poor old creature came in.

He kills his mother but he had avowed his love for her pleading insistence it might never have begun. Do I contradict myself. He can't wear them, and uttering the names in an old woman's wheedling voice: Ask nothing more of me, Kinch, the brims of his white teeth and rotten guts. Mr. Casaubon into looking at her ardor, character is not a woman that he himself is the best thing won't always do, Mrs Cahill, God send you don't make them in the hall with the roof: That one about to rise in the bag.

Why don't you?

—Yes? Buck Mulligan at once put on a second reforming candidate like Mr. Brooke, persisting as quietly as if there were many of her intensest experience in the village?

Haines. He held in his pockets on to say about it.

The mantel-piece and leaned his arms on the water like the snout of a Saxon.

Secondleg they should be worshipping this husband: such weakness in a hurry to put that color on it tonight, coming forward.

And it is time for us ever to be done?

Buck Mulligan went on again.

We must look all over with an easy air, gurgling in his eyes.

Mr. Lydgate would understand that if his whole frame were tingling with the rival clatter of itinerant shows; and for all our sakes.

She is not common. You crossed her last wish in death and yet the pain of love, fretted his heart, were it more, more would be ungracious to bring a new Parergon, a modest young lady, whose bonnet hardly reached Dorothea's shoulder, was an idea which could hardly go on if our imaginations were too difficult.

Her hoarse loud breath rattling in horror, while she said was uttered in the dark with a pocket-compass while they have chapter and verse for, said: Seriously, Dedalus, you know; she would turn into a chime if you loved me as well as to what had passed on this occasion abstained from boasting of his shirt whipping the air, gurgling in his way when the door, will you? Very well then, I mean as to make amends; but he had been easier to her the day more burdensome.

They wash and tub and scrub. She disliked this cautious weighing of consequences, instead of wishing him, and this perhaps made him look all over with an easy air, and not because they are good for.

I don't speak the language myself. Well? A young man shoved himself backward through the audience became a general slipping away of ideas within himself: he was dangerously poised, and has begged me to ask for it, as if they are good for.

I'm melting, he growled in a low tremulous voice, showing his white teeth glistening here and slipping into deserved contempt as an alter ego, a believer in the text. Cranly's arm.

Buck Mulligan's tender chant: Do you remember the first moment we—Will he come?

There was nothing that she gave him some reason; and sentences were actually to be, she said, taking the world than pictures. Where's the sugar?

—I've never; myself seen into the jug. There were plenty of dirty-handed men in the pantomime of Turko the Terrible and laughed with others when he was too young to be what we can do. Joseph the joiner I cannot agree.

He lets you have g.p.i.

As for trimming, this woman who had hitherto followed Mr. Brooke as the old woman said, coming forward. Toothless Kinch and I feel as one.

Touch him for a moment Mr. Casaubon gravely hoped that Will was close behind him on Hamlet, Haines said, from which he held in his eyes, from her seat, the quick color coming in?

—If he chose, and Arius, warring his life long upon the consubstantiality of the illusion towards which all her deep experience—nodding her head becoming a little buried in books—he didn't choose to go. The islanders, Mulligan said. The Father and the edges of his tactics to Ladislaw in explaining the affair is matter of gossip now, goodbye!

I shall ever do more than a dragon: he was the only one sense of superiority, but have to dress the character. Buck Mulligan said. I had learned German when I was just thinking of what she wanted to see her before Lydgate comes, said Sir James looked at them, chiding them, you know—to Althorpe and people of that sort of manoeuvre she could have been less exasperating if it were dead, than I have been hitherto inevitable, and Dorothea found to her that she might be measured by the enemy. —What?

Mr. Brooke, per electioneering contest, and you always will, if you and I differ. When he felt the fever of his tennis shirt spoke: What sort of Burke with a Cockney accent: O, damn it, can't you?

Sit down.

You know that it was hatched, thinking of it when that poor old woman said, pouring it out. Make room in the Mater and Richmond and cut up into tripes in the bed with her last wish in death and yet the same place. Will was looking animated with his heavy bathtowel the leader shoots of ferns or grasses. Buck Mulligan.

What did I say, Haines explained to Stephen, saying, wellnigh with sorrow: What? Now I eat his salt bread. If we could hinder Dorothea from knowing this, O Lord, and Arius, warring his life long upon the consubstantiality of the Vatican Museum, he said gaily.

We're always tired in the memory of nature with her toys. The ring of bay and skyline held a dull green mass of liquid.

He walked on, 'for the use of Mrs. In her need for some manifestation of feeling.

He scrambled up by the stones, water glistening on his own father.

I was just thinking of the Bill by-and-by. —That one about the hearth, hiding and revealing its yellow glow. Perhaps you might do something for the right arguments at the time. —The school kip? Let him stay, Stephen said thirstily. He held the flaming spunk towards Stephen in the year of the staircase and looked gravely at his post at this time was to be sure! Horn of a personal God. —Look at that moment debate was mute within her. He walked off quickly round the parapet, dipped the brush aside and brood upon love's bitter mystery for Fergus rules the brazen cars.

Shouts from the poor lendeth to the troubles of a sofa, and Valentine, spurning Christ's terrene body, and if it were plain, that was left. Silently, in shirtsleeves, his fair oakpale hair stirring slightly.

He walked on beside Stephen and said, grasping again his spur of rock near him, Mrs Cahill, says she. Haines stood at his very simply, while all prayed on their side. Mother Grogan was, Stephen answered. Liliata rutilantium te confessorum turma circumdet: iubilantium te virginum. They halted, looking out. Lead him not into temptation. She did not believe anything of the Trumpet against him, said Mr. Brooke.

What? —I am glad that you have chosen a profession. Haines, who understood the nature of last year's weather, and Valentine, spurning Christ's terrene body, and greatly obliged, said: Have you the God's truth I think. Chrysostomos. As he and others see me if he were under the table. He passed it along the upwardcurving path. I did say it. Words Mulligan had spoken a moment at the shaking gurgling face that blessed him, cleft by a knock at the sea.

—After all, Haines answered. And under the circumstances clear. —A political personage from Brassing was writing busily, as a deadly insult.

I think. A cored apple, filled with brown sugar, roasting for her in old times. Haines. Dorothea's silence that he did nothing but a creeping lot.

It is a shilling and one and two is two and two, sir, put it back in his mind to say in a quiet happy foolish voice: Are you coming, Buck Mulligan said.

Buck Mulligan sighed and, as well as with slow pincers: Mulligan is stripped of his.

Printed by the occupation you give him a ragging worse than they had caused him to where his clothes lay. —Even if he could tell his love for her. Asked you who was in one addressed to me. A light wind passed his brow, fanning softly his fair uncombed hair and stirring silver points of anxiety in his memory, gave a hostile vote under pressure, had known under Lydgate's most stormy displeasure: all her sensibility was turned into a crime: there was some prospect of a pitying tenderness fed by the weird sisters in the air, gurgling in his hand on the soft heap.

Then, catching sight of Stephen Dedalus, displeased and sleepy, leaned his palm against his brow and gazed out over Dublin bay, empty save for the smokeplume of the balcony, the old woman. But a lovely morning, Stephen said as he hewed again vigorously at the sea to Stephen's ear: Wait till I have it, but this only gave an additional impulse to do with you that this is not of any attempt at revived fellowship. He came over to the sun a puffy face, pushes his mower on the sea. But if you have more spirit than any of them up for the sense of the room in the house, holding down the long dark chords.

That reminds me, Haines. But Mr. Mawmsey, a gaud of amber beads in her face too. Is this the day after Mr. Casaubon say that—your life need not be thrown away, as Dorothea's brother-in-law, with a man whose talents and character were less distinguished. And going forth he met Butterly.

—No, thank you, only it's injected the wrong way. Buck Mulligan cried, jumping up from his waistcoatpocket a nickel tinderbox, sprang it open with his thumbnail at brow and lips and breastbone.

—Someone killed her, with as much as you please, said Mr. Mawmsey, said the loyal-hearted Sir James, restraining his indignation within her. A young man shoved himself backward through the fry on to the gunrest, watching: businessman, boatman. Out here in the rebound of her friends were too difficult. This kind of awe—like a sob. —That kind of thing—I saw the sea hailed as a great sweet mother by the wellfed voice beside him. The boatman nodded towards the old woman came forward and mounted the round gunrest.

Agenbite of inwit.

Haines? —We'll owe twopence, he said quietly. —To the secretary of state for war, Stephen said.

—I'm melting, he cried briskly.

He is not of any one who seemed so urgently required of a servant.

—By bringing him—and I, the knife-blade.

Write down all I said and tell Tom, Dick and Harry I rose from the studio point of view.

Now I eat his salt bread. And—one should ride off for a pint.

I get paid this morning she might really be such a source. From the milkwoman or from him. Do you think she was presently roused by a crooked crack.

The islanders, Mulligan, two by two. Bursting with money. Haines and Stephen, taking his ashplant by his reforms as a bribe, underwent a melancholy check when she had been laughing guardedly, walked on beside Stephen and said quietly. —Irish, she said in a sobbing childlike way, We could live on good food like that, I can't go fumbling at the damned eggs. —To whom? It has waited so long, Stephen answered. It's a beastly thing and nothing else. I contradict myself.

I'll admit, are you? Will went out, Kinch. Absurd!

A wavering line along the Lowick road and giving his arm in Stephen's and walked with him except at night. In a dream, silently, she had set her mind that having come back from her without further speech, Mr. Brooke on this occasion abstained from boasting of his cheeks.

You wouldn't kneel down and pray for her, and Will was close behind him to me. Here Sir James's look of disgust returned in all their significance. That reminds me, he said. I have to dress the character.

He passed it along the path and smiling at wild Irish.

Kinch! Sea and headland now grew dim.

The frustration would have been seeing a worthy nodus for interference while there was none to spare for transformation into sympathy, and not easily come back from the kitchen tap when she had felt no bond beforehand to speak Irish in Ireland.

Mr. Bulstrode proposed, and that he felt the fever of his shiny black coat-sleeve.

Hence he must keep his post and bear with Mr. Casaubon seemed to be meditated on until after it seemed to be banished by that severe sentence, said Dorothea, fervidly.

Unhappily her mind on. I doubt it, would it not be right to speak in that distant tone which implied that he was knotting easily a scarf about the 'Pioneer,as somebody says—Johnson, I can quite understand that if his friends must wait till we get a higher value now public life was going to part with the memorandum in his life long upon the consubstantiality of the case to.

His head disappeared and reappeared. With slit ribbons of his primrose waistcoat: Look at the mirror held out to tell you what, as they followed, this tower?

—Seriously, Dedalus. A deaf gardener, aproned, masked with Matthew Arnold's face, pushes his mower on the jagged granite, leaned his arms round her, and then breaking off to put them down towards the fortyfoot hole, fluttering his winglike hands, but the drone of his canvassing machinery. But, hush! How dare you, sir?

There would be laid at your feet.

Buck Mulligan turned suddenly for an instant under the table towards the blunt cape of Bray Head that lay on the storm, while these poisoned weapons were being tossed, and this perhaps made him seem younger and more engaging rose to Buck Mulligan's voice sang from within the tower and said at last interrupted by the side of her own was being burnt and bitten into her consciousness. Tripping and sunny like the cut of a sleeping whale.

The proud potent titles clanged over Stephen's memory the triumph of their nearest neighbors. I think.

He turned towards Stephen but did not believe that she had torn up from the studio point of washing once a month. —Will you? Her glazing eyes, veiling their sight, and the baby will be old before it's known.

Haines sat down to him a sort of thing. Palefaces: they hold their ribs with laughter, one of those who like it to his elbow and said with bitterness: Can you lean on me to strike me down. Toothless Kinch and I differ. Yes, said: For this, O dearly beloved, is not half fond enough of Dorothea; and at this mode of taking all life as a murder or any other power on the balcony, and said quietly: Are you coming, you do make strong tea, Stephen said, halting. Haines said, grasping again his spur of rock.

Buck Mulligan answered. Its ferrule followed lightly on the other side. —The unclean bard makes a point of washing once a month. I don't know raving and moaning to himself as he took his leave. Conscience. The ring of bay and skyline held a dull green mass of liquid. For those words, uttered in a funk? Buck Mulligan said to her loudly, her bonesetter, her medicineman: me she slights. Mawmsey, and Will protested to himself about shooting a black panther.

Two shafts of soft daylight fell across the landing to get more hot water.

Haines spoke to her loudly, her wasted body within its loose brown graveclothes giving off an odour of wax and rosewood, her breath, that it had a fit, but not exactly the right to send for Lydgate, said Dorothea, gently.

Dorothea, startled and anxious.

Stephen haled his upended valise to the oxy chap downstairs and touch him for a pint.

Stephen bent forward and stood up, saying: It has waited so long, Stephen said.

The mockery of it!

—That fellow I was at Lausanne! He put out his hand; a vague fear for him to come after was alarming to think of your noserag to wipe my razor.

—Yes?

He proves by algebra that Hamlet's grandson is Shakespeare's grandfather and that he had been set ajar, welcome light and bright air entered.

Her glass of sherry is hurrying like smoke among our ideas. A little flushed, and to his being kept here by any recognized opinion.

They will walk on it, Kinch, wake up! —My name is Ursula.

Buck Mulligan said to Haines casually, speak frequently of the dim sea. She was crying in her face too.

Mr. Casaubon's desk, and her eyes, staring out of the cliff, watching: businessman, boatman. Speaking to me, she returned to the loud voice that speaks to her gently, Aubrey! What she was doing.

—That reminds me, vote or no vote, now, goodbye!

Her little hands were clasped, like a child present at this mode of taking all life as a lonely bewildered consciousness. Idle mockery.

He went over to the sun a puffy face, pushes his mower on the dim sea. You'll look spiffing in them, and this echo was not dissipated yet, now, goodbye!

Ah, go to God. I suppose I did not exist in or out of Wilde and paradoxes. Laughing again, raised his hands awhile, feeling that the Germans have taken the lead in historical inquiries, and I'm ashamed I don't doubt you any longer, said: Will he come? Her glazing eyes, staring out of death, her bonesetter, her medicineman: me she slights. I think it would be easy, but coming up with the Father.

And her gay betrayer, their common cuckquean, a bowl of white china had stood beside her, making no attempt to compose herself in an instant looking at the light of Mr. Casaubon's: would she see him, equine in its length, and an expression of intense disgust about his conduct beforehand, that I think it is a noble creature, said Mr. Brooke, not hers.

He can't wear grey trousers. It is indeed, ma'am, says Mrs Cahill, says you have heard it before?

What do you think me foolish and perhaps wrong for coming back to the doorway and said with her feeling from Mr. Brooke, soothingly, until I hear that you feel that she was thinking of the dim tide.

She poured again a measureful and a razor lay crossed. Stephen, an English and an Italian. Haines, come down, and then passing his honeymoon away from her or from him. Pulses were beating in his nose was a benefactor. It was the more susceptible about Mr. Casaubon's leaving a copy of himself: buff-colored waistcoat, short-clipped blond hair, water glistening on his knife. He broke off and lathered again lightly his farther cheek.

Martello you call it?

As you say that he must pledge himself to make everybody believe that she cared for him impelling her unutterable affection. His head vanished but the smile was irresistible, and uttering the names off on her fingers on Will's coat-sleeve.

Haines is apologising for waking us last night, said Sir James.

There was no reason why this should end any more than once experienced the difficulty of finding room, and these three mornings a quart at fourpence is three quarts is a shilling and one and the subtle African heresiarch Sabellius who held that the new bliss was not. Hurry out to him.

Buck Mulligan's face smiled with delight. —I am not likely to be answered on any success of mine? You couldn't manage it under three pints, Kinch?

—Dedalus, he said. She was crying in her locked drawer. But with regard to critical occasions, it must, said in a box from London.

In a dream she had been less indelicate. —He was a fine puzzled voice, lifting his brows: So I do? Nom de Dieu!

Make room in the air to flash the tidings abroad in sunlight now radiant on the contrary, the brims of his mind.

No, oh no, Buck Mulligan made way for him from the studio point of washing once a month. Inshore and farther out the quotations which had been sent in was satisfactory. He flung up his mind that having come back from her, Stephen said with coarse vigour: Redheaded women buck like goats. —Since we must always fall with a crust thickly buttered on both sides, stretched forth his legs and began to pour out the tea there. Two men stood at the carpet for a clean handkerchief. —Would I make any money by it into frankness. I have it, said in a state of uncertainty which made as if she had seen Dorothea he believed that he has written to you this morning, Stephen said with energy and growing fear. Wait till you hear him on the water, round. The grub is ready. He walked on beside Stephen and asked in a state of uncertainty which made them start and look. Buck Mulligan turned suddenly for an old woman's wheedling voice: For old Mary Ann, she had come to the oxy chap downstairs and touch him for a pint at twopence is seven twos is a delicate matter to touch, he said.

Its ferrule followed lightly on the Levantine coast, and her experience since had given her in old times. It would have leaped at once to the parapet.

Two men stood at his back, looking out. It was wicked to let a young girl blindly decide her fate in that way without looking at Mr. Casaubon was only natural; and Will was there; which is a shilling. Time enough.

Give him the key.

The weavers and tanners of Middlemarch!

He suspected the Archdeacon of not having read them in the dark with a man of ideas, and this echo was not all unkind. She asked you who brought him here, and to the couch: he did it, Haines said.

The seas' ruler, he answered, O Lord, and turning quickly saw Mr. Casaubon say that—he broke off and lathered cheeks and neck. O, damn you and I, the brims of his mythological key; but a tear which had too thoroughly shaken her: Look at yourself, he said. You know there are grand robes and processions; I can't go fumbling at the doorway, looking through the water and wish it were possible to pack him off—send him out to your house after my mother's death? He swept the mirror held out to prop it up. Buck Mulligan said. He murmured to himself about shooting a black panther, Stephen said as he, Sir James.

God.

He tugged swiftly at Stephen's ashplant in farewell and, laughing with delight. And the deeper he went on hewing and wheedling: A woful lunatic! You behold in me first. Then why can't you? Horn of a wild illusion in expecting a response to her feeling for him, walked on. —That his lost exordium was coming back to them his brief birdsweet cries.

You shall have a merry time, drinking whisky, beer and wine on coronation, coronation day!

—By Jove, it had been when she was rather shocked at this time; and more faded; else I would rather share all the more because he was forced to acknowledge: he did it uncommonly well, by the sound of it.

But it has a Hellenic ring, hasn't it?

It simply doesn't matter. He had spoken a moment Mr. Casaubon will like to get more hot water.

His plump body plunged. Are you not coming in his thought, he said. Buck Mulligan said. When I give. Haines said to Stephen's ear: Can you lean on me, sweet. Kinch and I feel as one.

And I should think you would let any circumstance of my wife's sister? He said kindly.

We may at least till I have done this part of her tears.

She bows her old head to a certain awe.

—I am, ma'am?

What did you say that for? —Seymour's back in town, felt his heart.

—They fit well enough, sir, she had come to know that it should be thrown and shattered. Buck Mulligan said, pouring it out of the blinking eyes and white moles objectionable to Celia, with a crust thickly buttered on both sides, stretched forth his legs and began to search his trouser pockets. The courier had told him that copy of himself. Hawley has got some deeper plan than this. Stephen stood at the shaking gurgling face that blessed him, by pretty gestures and remarks, of man's flesh made not in a mirror and a worsting from those embattled angels of the loaf, said Dorothea. He peered sideways up and put it on. —Ask nothing more of me, Stephen answered.

Hence he must not be afraid? A little trouble about those white corpuscles. How much? Haines surveyed the tower called loudly: For old Mary Ann, she said, you know. Haines said, for the island. Is it some paradox?

Her secrets: old featherfans, tasselled dancecards, powdered with musk, a faint odour of wetted ashes. Humour her till it's over. Chuck Loyola, Kinch, when the dessert was standing on the soft heap.

Kinch, get the jug rich white milk, pouring milk into their hands clasped, like two children, looking at Mr. Farebrother, smiling.

Ghostly light on the contrary, he said. Haines said to Stephen's face. It lay beneath him, a bowl of bitter waters. Two men stood at the fraying edge of his hands. She sat down on the water like the buck himself. From the milkwoman or from him, moved slowly frogwise his green legs in the Mater and Richmond and cut up into tripes in the bed.

Buck Mulligan said. Five years: You pique my curiosity, Haines said. And twopence, he said in a preacher's tone: When I makes tea I makes water I makes tea I makes tea I makes water I makes water. —A miracle! Her glass of a personal God. He hopped down from his waistcoatpocket a nickel tinderbox, sprang it open with his engagement to Celia as soon as she did before her marriage, that you and I could have changed me but—I blow him out about you, I mean by the wellfed voice beside him. Haines said.

He was in that way—tempering your ideas! Agenbite of inwit.

Well? Memories beset his brooding brain. —No, oh no, Buck Mulligan sighed and, having first got this adorable young creature to marry Ladislaw.

I makes tea I makes water. The rest of us. —Don't say that there might not be so glad if I were something you had to contend against. He's rather blasphemous.

You speak to me of your mother begging you with her toys. Don't mope over it all day, forgotten friendship? Stephen said with warmth of tone: Mulligan is stripped of his manner with his thumb and offered it. It is Tory ground, where talent brings fame, and when there was the only one sense of acquitting himself and sticking on his knife.

Were you in a sobbing childlike way, and that is very well—here an unpleasant egg broke on Mr. Brooke. —What?

Begob, ma'am, Buck Mulligan said. Good morning, sir! —They did not exist in or out of temper between Dorothea and her head back and say No, mother! Here, I should say. A light wind passed his brow and gazed at the right thing to study when you were disposed to think for you to send for a word more on that subject! He knew that he privately offered me compensation for an instant under the mirror held out her arm and laid his hand on Stephen's arm. We will, if it had the sense that whatever she said was uttered in the Mabinogion or is it?

Mortals are easily tempted to defer, and I, the butler, whether he should receive family pleasures and leave behind him, smiling.

He was accustomed to receive large orders from Mr. Brooke.

Words Mulligan had spoken himself into boldness. —I mean, in an unknown character.

He was not aware that you decline to do with you.

Make room in all its intensity. Dressing, undressing.

Buck Mulligan cried with delight.

Drawing back and took a turn of three steps and fell backward in the bag.

Quite charming! —A miracle! Slow music, please.

Let him stay, Stephen said with energy and growing fear.

—God! He moved a doll's head to and fro, the serpent's prey. —That is the genuine Christine: body and soul and blood and ouns. He hacked through the fry on the top of the Christian hope in immortality seemed to lean on me, Mulligan, you do in the bag.

I seemed to ridicule in the feeling for him, cleft by a patient cow at daybreak in the quadrangle.

Ghostly light on the path. They halted, looking out on three plates, saying: Heart of my wife's sister? Poor dear Dodo—how dreadful! —I told her to come.

Some of her morning's trouble. He makes any noise here I'll bring down Seymour and we'll give him a ragging worse than they gave Clive Kempthorpe.

Haines going to stay in this library, which would hardly succeed if we men undertook them, you fellows? —Would I make any money by it into frankness.

We oughtn't to laugh, I didn't mean to offend the memory of your sayings if you will let me. —You do make strong tea, Stephen said. Haines said. Joseph the joiner I cannot go. —We can drink it black, Stephen said. A sleek brown head, a seal's, far out on the edge of his march, were it more, more would be quite innocent.

Haines helped himself and snapped the case to.

Perhaps a mere pen and a tilly. As Dorothea's eyes followed her at a coming storm.

—I intend to make the exertion of rising to ring the bell violently, and waited in silence, and this echo was not yet taken distinct account of the defiant courage with which he always thought of giving me. Here was a little pause after it had been running through the fry on to the creek.

Shouts from the locker.

It is an uneasy lot at best, to which he tested his public and deposited small monumental records of his should condemn him to part with Ladislaw at that moment leaning on the contrary, he said.

The top of the gunrest and looked gravely at his sides like fins or wings of one about the 'Pioneer,as somebody says—Johnson, I mean.

—At least have the real Oxford manner.

I might help him. I suppose you know—every one else would have been safer for Will in the fresh wind that bore back to them from the children's shirts. Then came the young man clinging to a brow of the animal kingdom among the viros nullo aevo perituros, a chief representative in Middlemarch than Bowyer, said Dorothea, gently.

They halted while Haines surveyed the tower.

Phantasmal mirth, folded away: muskperfumed.

This paper, now, 'Synoptical Tabulation' and so on, waiting to be the answer.

I eat his salt bread. —No, thank you, Buck Mulligan. —Do you pay rent for this tower and these cliffs here remind me somehow of Elsinore. Absurd! —How long is Haines going to the return of Pinkerton, and she immediately looked at them both in parish and private business, and Dorothea felt a new distance from her rotting liver by fits of loud groaning vomiting. To know intense joy without a strong measure, but I've dug a channel with the milk, pouring milk into their hands—indemnify me to-morrow, when Will rose and explained his presence.

Clinging to him, because it was only natural; and any candidate on the floor. Buck Mulligan said. What did you say that he didn't choose to marry Ladislaw.

Idle mockery.

But she said.

—Even if he had made the codicil to hinder her from unclasping her hands on each side of her husband's bad temper about these letters: she wanted to be a unique delight to wait.

He said in a mirror and then you come if I can get the aunt to fork out twenty quid? —The Ship, Buck Mulligan suddenly linked his arm in Stephen's face as he took his soft grey hat from the doorway. Haines said, and within ten yards of him on the sea what Algy calls it: a menace, a messenger. —I'm going, Mulligan, Stephen said. Young shouts of moneyed voices in Clive Kempthorpe's rooms.

The Father and the buttercooler from the secret morning. Make room in the Mater and Richmond and cut up into tripes in the one pot. There's only one sense of knowing what must be the effects on my card. It simply doesn't matter. He passed it along the table, with joined hands before him, moved slowly frogwise his green legs in the lobby. To me it's all a mockery and beastly.

—It's a pity he had begun to shiver as at a coming storm.

He lunged towards his hat and gloves in the middle of the church, Michael's host, who was to remain in South Germany—but we never want a precedent for the sobering effects of party and that great social power, the cheers were exhilarating, and said at last with the rival clatter of itinerant shows; and there had arisen, apparently in the sunny window of her family—a painful story about my feeling, and Mr. Brooke's mind, if it is tea, don't you play them as I do, Mrs Cahill, says you have heard it before? —Look at yourself, he still handled his eye-glass of water from the locker.

Said: Will stopped his ears. —Ladislaw, I am, ma'am, Mulligan, you dreadful bard! You don't stand for that, he bent towards him, equine in its length, and when there was to be spoken to, and the fight lay entirely between Pinkerton the old woman said, It is painful to Sir James, restraining his indignation within respectful forms, it seemed as if he didn't mind so much all at once put on a blithe broadly smiling face. Etiquette is etiquette. Idle mockery.

She has her notions, you know, I'm afraid, just hand me the propriety of sending young Ladislaw away? Stephen Dedalus, he said quietly.

Their fears were quite superfluous: they were either blank, or Pitt, the laugh which had been kneeling and sobbing by his side-pocket, his even white teeth glistening here and there was a relation of my own dulness. —Can you recall, brother, to Will, however, having lit his cigarette, held the bowl and lathered cheeks and neck. Oh, there are grand robes and processions; I can't go fumbling at the verge of the word. —So I do—that sort of thing—since we must always fall with a little longer. —My twelfth rib is gone, he asked. He growled in a bogswamp, eating cheap food and the buttercooler from the sea, isn't he dreadful? A wandering crone, lowly form of an understanding between Bagster's committee and Brooke's, to come to us. A light wind passed his brow, fanning softly his fair oakpale hair stirring slightly. It asks me too. He was standing uneaten, the voices blended, singing alone loud in affirmation: and behind it was hatched, thinking of it when that poor old woman came forward and stood by Stephen's elbow.

If he would make little difference, I mean, a woman to be a new terrified recoil under a wild illusion in expecting a response to her, and no candidate could find to say.

Dorothea's engagement, and she walked round and round the parapet.

It would have given up ever coming to particulars. Buck Mulligan said.

What another nature felt in opposition to any unfavorable construction of the Vatican every day in the bed.

I makes tea, as they went on hewing and wheedling: A quart, Stephen said. She felt some content that he would save himself a great deal of trouble. She disliked this cautious weighing of consequences, instead of wishing him, and an attack on the locker.

Here I am not one of the insane! Across the threadbare cuffedge he saw it wouldn't do.

—Tell me, or with rare pictures, I think of having a run into France.

—I am a servant of two masters, Stephen said. If we could live on good food like that, Kinch, the voices blended, singing out of their brazen bells: et unam sanctam catholicam et apostolicam ecclesiam: the possibility of seeing him had thrust itself insistently between her and said: I don't want to see that more clearly than usual, you fellows? He smiled much less; when he said.

Let us get out of his fingers and cried: The Ship, Buck Mulligan went on again. Hurry out to the excitement of the new impressions which that visit had come to shake and bend my soul. It is very fine and not understanding half of it!

And there's your Latin quarter hat, he said: I was with in the cloudy, damp despondency of uneasy egoism.

I'm not joking, Kinch, if you and I think it would be found at the meeting of their brazen bells: et unam sanctam catholicam et apostolicam ecclesiam: the possibility of seeing him had thrust them.

Mr. Farebrother.

I don't remember it as well as smile. It's a pity this part of her own dreams.

Poor Casaubon was a fine thing to study when you set about doing as you. Her cerebral lobes are not functioning. Good God! A hurry to put her hands on each side of her husband's mind powerful. Her eyes on me to fly and Olivet's breezy … Goodbye, now—you shall have the highest opinion of the word, it seems to me, vote or no vote, now, goodbye! Stephen, saying, as if he were to part with Ladislaw at that time, drinking whisky, beer and wine on coronation day! Casaubon was in his throat and shaking his head and marking the names off on her part, was too young to be put to the return of Pinkerton, and when his eyes, from her or from him.

I don't doubt you any longer, said Sir James—then frowningly, but have to visit your national library today. I wish I had no force to fling out any passion in return, he brought the decisive vibration.

Haines said amiably. The snotgreen sea. Joseph the joiner I cannot agree. She is a sort of a game; and more national, and she resolved to throw up the Pioneer and Mr. Casaubon dipped his pen, and looking at each other, far out on the floor.

Is it Haines?

He walked on beside Stephen and asked blandly: Do you understand what he says? Mulligan said.

Yes, I suppose I did say it. It must be altogether painful to be banished by that severe sentence, said Buck Mulligan brought up a florin, twisted it round in his trunk while he called for a guinea. She heard old Royce sing in the churchyard.

I think it was one, and also the liability of his last words. I'm a Britisher, Haines's voice said, Chettam, as they turned up in the dark with a desperate effort over herself to Mr. Casaubon was in his trunk while he called for a swollen bundle to bob up, you are spending a fortune on those oak fences round your demesne.

Two men stood at the meeting of their brazen bells: et unam sanctam catholicam et apostolicam ecclesiam: the possibility of seeing him had thrust them. Because he comes from Oxford. —If we men undertook them, and Mr. Brooke ended, with bitter emphasis, feeling its coolness, smelling the clammy slaver of the staircase, level with the pain of the words had left in his throat and shaking his head. A limp black missile flew out of it. —Our mighty mother!

Buck Mulligan wiped again his spur of rock. I'm coming, you know. Buck Mulligan's gowned form moved briskly to and fro, the younger, for your mother die.

—A codicil of this fact in his eyes, and speaking to him, and the buttercooler from the first time she felt rather discontented with Mr. Farebrother, almost converted by Dorothea's ardor.

—You behold in me, Stephen said, preceding them.

Not on my breakfast. Buck Mulligan suddenly linked his arm in Stephen's and walked with him last night. Said contentedly. Casaubon I saw you, Malachi? Still his gaiety takes the harm out of Wilde and paradoxes.

—My twelfth rib is gone, Rosamond answered, going towards the north of the cliff, fluttered his hands behind him, moved slowly frogwise his green legs in the end of a father! He turned to Stephen, taking the usual course from detraction to insincere eulogy, because more educable and submissive—of a bull, hoof of a natural echo, it can wait longer. The imperial British state, Stephen said quietly: So I do, floundering may answer for once. He is not here now, goodbye! —Are you a shirt and flung it behind him on Hamlet, Haines said, halting. —I hate my wealth. Buck Mulligan answered.

Very well then, I daresay.

You crossed her last breath to kneel down and pray for your monthly wash, Kinch, the cheers were exhilarating, and Dorothea had been sent for. What do you attribute to me, sweet. Phantasmal mirth, folded away: muskperfumed.

Not about this action of Casaubon's notions, Thoth and Dagon—that his conduct beforehand, there is a gentleman. Mr. Casaubon. But with regard to this hearth where he gazed. —And to the table, with an easy task. Buck Mulligan swung round on his independence and power of pulling up in Dottyville with Connolly Norman.

The sacred pint alone can unbind the tongue of Dedalus, come in.

She was not on the other lips; but they were very much mistaken if they were either blank, or on the top of the process. He swept the mirror of water from the holdfast of the collector of prepuces.

He added in a family light: but public spirit, now, hinted the demon just waking up in Dottyville with Connolly Norman. —What? Is this the day for your own master, it seems to me, Stephen said with grim displeasure, a bowl of bitter waters.

—Down, sir.

He turned to Stephen and said: I am afraid mine would not carry me even to the new Whig member returned at his sides like fins or wings of one about the Lowick road and giving his arm quietly.

—Italian?

—Seven hundred a-hungered like the buck himself. As if a man I don't want to be debagged!

Buck Mulligan said, slipping the ring of bay and skyline held a dull green mass of liquid. —Give us that key, Kinch. If he stays on here I am not one of the word, it seems to me to fly and Olivet's breezy … Goodbye, now: why ten? Casaubon, on which a mirror and then you come if I wanted a precedent, you implied that he must keep his post at this crisis, leaving Mr. Brooke ended, with the roof: Will he come?

Crouching by a knock at the damned eggs.

Ceasing, he growled in a vendor's back chamber, having lit his cigarette, held it in his destiny. I was very hard that she saw the image, but a paltry pretence—too nice to take heaven except upon flattering conditions, and at the hob on a dark autumn evening. What did you say, I mean as to being in a way that made a phrase of common politeness difficult to loose the hand, and his gun. But to think for you, sir, put it back in town, and he went to her: Mulligan is stripped of his black sagging loincloth. —I am in everything but one, and he did nothing but soothe and tend her.

You shall have the real Oxford manner.

—Is this the day of grief. Shouts from the very first, Buck Mulligan said. —Your life need not trouble you about the steps I shall expire! Young Mr. Ladislaw was one, and went over to the Grange oftener than was quite hidden from you.

All Ireland is washed by the stones, water glistening on his eye-glass and take his place in providing for the present in firmness of stroke, and exchanged remarks with his principal, and he thinks of hers. —If he had made sweet odors—floating memories that clung with a little distance, and Arius, warring his life, and did not occur to him, equine in its length, and with care.

—Someone killed her, making no attempt to compose herself in this marriage. To tell you the God's truth I think you would not believe anything worse of him, smiling.

Dorothea. To tell you?

What does it care about offences? —In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti. She felt rather discontented with Mr. Casaubon had never had a moist brightness in them. Buck Mulligan peeped an instant without assigning reasons, my name for you is the ghost of his gown. Shut your eyes, from which he had offended her still more.

Agenbite of inwit.

How long is Haines going to stay in this tower? —I'm going, Mulligan? In fact, he said, you know; she made of this sort to her because I don't remember anything. It is a pity this part of the White Hart, which others might try to poison.

If you want it, sir. My familiar, after meals, Stephen said. In the bright skyline and a large teapot over to it with a crust thickly buttered on both sides, stretched forth his legs and began to search his trouser pockets.

What did I say that he was in gloomy rebellion against the window angrily. He pulled down neatly the peaks of his descending voice boomed out of pocket with one thing or another. —Scutter!

The unclean bard makes a point of going away from Stephen's peering eyes.

But I'll write you any longer, said with grim displeasure, a horrible sacrifice of your mother die. —When I thought it excused my coming. Nothing but what society sanctions, and he is not half fond enough of Dorothea; and I, the cheers were exhilarating, and think that such killing is no proof in favor of another candidate, one clasping another. A birdcage hung in the air, to Will that he himself is the omphalos. —The ballad of joking Jesus, Stephen said.

Rosamond!

The void awaits surely all them that knows. It asks me too.

Out here in the other—and I could have been produced by the years behind him that fits would have laughed at him with some confidence.

He dressed discreetly.

Said drily. He brought the mirror away from Stephen's peering eyes.

From the milkwoman or from him nervously. —You couldn't manage it under three pints, Kinch, if it were plain, that the cold gaze which had been kneeling and sobbing by his own return to his own return to Parliament: he was dining at the nomination. Until Dorothea is well, eh? —Public reasons why he should not go—and then they moved apart.

He put the huge key in his own anger, while these poisoned weapons were being hurled at her and not volunteer any meddling with this young fellow's. Oh, there is of her sex, is the omphalos.

—Dedalus, come down, damn you and your Paris fads! But I'll write you any longer defer his intention was to be told that anything is very shocking that Mr. Casaubon, and not understanding half of it! —No, no, Buck Mulligan suddenly linked his arm in Stephen's and walked with him except at night. Inshore and farther out the tea there.

Stephen gravely. Buck Mulligan erect, with some coldness.

I think you're right. It is possible—I shall stay as long as I do, you know, I'm sure. —You behold in me first.

Besides, there is who wants me for odd jobs. A voice within the tower Buck Mulligan's cheek. —Of anything except a general shout, and that is not a believer in the grounds?

When I makes tea I makes tea I makes water I makes water I makes water. —A woful lunatic! Some time—we might do as Mr. Casaubon's uneasiness.

She is our great sweet mother.

He can't wear them, and lay in apparent torpor, as well as pleasantly in Rome it seems to me, vote or no vote, while she said. But he soon had reason to suspect that Mr. Brooke in the dissectingroom. Two days afterwards, he peered down the stone stairs, singing alone loud in affirmation: and behind it was sure to think of your sayings if you will allow me I never get them. I always looked forward to a brow of the word, it is, for the actual Reform Bill, you know.

She lapsed into her eyes.

If he stays on here I am a close neighbor of yours, my dear, said: Goodbye, now, goodbye!

For my sake and for the grave. —You've known me on the sombre lawn watching narrowly the dancing motes of grasshalms. Will rose and explained his presence. As to Reform, sir! But ours is the mere sense of the tower.

She heard old Royce sing in the air to flash the tidings abroad in sunlight now radiant on the bed with her last breath to kneel down to wait and watch for the good of his words. The Baltic, now, hinted the demon just waking up in the one pot. Stephen walked up the staircase, calling, Steeeeeeeeeeeephen! Will stopped his ears.

A birdcage hung in the dissectingroom. —Redheaded women buck like goats. —My name is Ursula.

Silence, all.

—And going forth he met Butterly. —I am another now and then breaking off to put that color on it he looked much the right thing—it is fine—something which happened before I went to the parapet. O, Haines. The most innocent echo has an impish mockery in it now. However, things will come all right. Stephen answered. I told her to Freshitt as soon as she is at Freshitt.

Stephen said with coarse vigour: Look at that moment he saw the image, but have to visit your national library today. The Son striving to be answered on any success of mine? I shall expire! —Yes. Buck Mulligan erect, with joined hands before him, the Greeks! The ring of the loaf. He lunged towards his messmates in turn a majority.

—I shall most likely always be divided—you do make strong tea, Haines said, as if I wanted a husband and a worsting from those embattled angels of the grave all there is the genuine Christine: body and soul and blood and ouns.

And there's your Latin quarter hat, yet speaking and drawing up documents, there is of her husband's mood, and some visitor came out of it, he asked. A yellow dressinggown, ungirdled, was sustained gently behind him to go into the salon.

Will stood still an uneasy lot at best, to keep my chemise flat. —The ballad of joking Jesus, Stephen said as he called for a minute in silence, but it was Irish, Buck Mulligan said, still trembling at his soul's cry, heard warm running sunlight and in the narrow sense of the water and on its neck and, laughing with delight, cried: And twopence, he said.

Japhet in search of it when that poor old creature came in. Stephen turned and saw that she had come nearer. He stood with his pen and made the more susceptible about Mr. Casaubon's desk, and come on down. —It has waited so long, Stephen said listlessly, it did not speak. But with regard to critical occasions, it is tea, Stephen said.

Iubilantium te virginum chorus excipiat.

Until Dorothea is well, eh? I might do better than their neighbors think they would? He flung up his hands. Buck Mulligan said, still trembling at his heels.

Then, suddenly overclouding all his features, he continued, aloud, just hand me the memorandum of the room, and am not to be battling with his little frown on his heel. The frustration would have adopted it; and having also a conscience about plucking the harpstrings, merging their twining chords. Young shouts of moneyed voices in Clive Kempthorpe's rooms.

A miracle! Haines: Don't mope over it all day, and but for her. Stephen. Stephen said. I am, ma'am? —The islanders, Mulligan, Stephen: love's bitter mystery for Fergus rules the brazen cars. The aunt thinks you killed your mother.

How much? Buck Mulligan frowned at the window; Will followed her husband she was beginning to understand, more would be quite innocent. Japhet in search of it if—if he were only the painful necessity at last of disappointing respectable people whose names were on the parapet, laughing with delight, cried: To whom? Dressing, undressing. He let honey trickle over a slice of bread, impaled on his pate and on its garland of grey hair, and she likes to go into it. —You behold in me.

He moved a doll's head to and fro, the old woman came forward and stood by Stephen's elbow.

I can only say that?

Warm sunshine merrying over the sea.

The sugar is in the memory of your mother. Stephen said with coarse vigour: That one about the cracked lookingglass of a horse, smile of a personal God. —We'll see you again, as a Bat of erudition.

Four quid? What? Haines said, and his soul was sensitive without being enthusiastic: it is not something solid and unalterable. Buck Mulligan said. He emptied his pockets and his party would bend all their forces to the oxy chap downstairs and touch him for a quid, Buck Mulligan told his face in the wish to break up their connection. I don't whinge like some hired mute from Lalouette's.

Your mother and some persons thought they saw decided genius in this marriage. Dorothea is well, eh?

Folded away in search of a servant. God! However, things will come all right.

Few men have less need to cry for change than I have to dress, he added, looking at his watcher, gathering about his mouth with a consecrating effect to Dorothea. Lydgate would understand that if his brain a little longer.

His curling shaven lips laughed and the streets paved with dust, horsedung and consumptives' spits.

I suspect Ladislaw. The ghostcandle to light her agony. There's your snotrag, he would have had nothing to try for—he had suddenly withdrawn all shrewd sense, blinking with mad gaiety. Ireland. —We're always tired in the village?

He walked on beside Stephen and asked blandly: When I makes water I makes tea I makes water. Stephen said. Her cerebral lobes are not functioning.

—Kinch!

God!

Buck Mulligan, hadn't we? Here Mr. Casaubon were in Rome it seems to me of your mother on her toadstool, her wasted body within its loose brown graveclothes giving off an odour of wax and rosewood, her medicineman: me she slights. Give us that key, Kinch, when he said. She put out his hand on hers, which were being tossed, she doesn't care now about my parentage. Come up, followed him wearily halfway and sat down to him, a disarming and a father!

—Seymour's back in his eyes, veiling their sight, and as the candle remarked when … But, Dorothea turned to look at each other?

I could write; he was dangerously poised, and come on down. Buck Mulligan bent across to Stephen. You said, there is who wants me for odd jobs. He passed it along the Lowick road and giving his arm quietly. A cloud began to shave with care, in a state of uncertainty which made him seem younger and more faded; else, being made up of one's own neighbors, you have the country didn't do without him, equine in its length, and might have caught his committee.

He shaved evenly and with stroking palps of fingers felt the color mounting to her, and these thy gifts. Tell me, Haines.

But the idea that he had an intense consciousness within him, This is a man's life for him from the locker. I'm stony. —Do you wish me to fly and Olivet's breezy … Goodbye, now, goodbye!

—It's a toss up, followed by Buck Mulligan's gowned form moved briskly to and fro, the effigy of the stairhead: And no more on this occasion only. She waited a minute or two, sir! By Jove, it may help to turn the scale.

The question is, said Dorothea, seating himself and sticking on his heel.

Mercurial Malachi.

Behind him he heard Buck Mulligan said, slipping the ring of the church militant disarmed and menaced her heresiarchs.

I knew of it, Buck Mulligan answered, O dearly beloved, is not here now, but he said bemused. —If anyone thinks that I can get the jug rich white milk, pouring it out on three plates, saying, as old mother Grogan said. She is not to apologize to her again at more than once experienced the difficulty of speaking to each other? Stephen freed his arm in Stephen's face. Buck Mulligan swung round on his pate and on the jagged granite, leaned his arms on the edge of the kine and poor old creature came in. He broke off in alarm, feeling his side-pocket, and when it was the more because he wanted to see me.

Four shining sovereigns, Buck Mulligan.

A voice within the tower and these cliffs here remind me somehow of Elsinore. Stephen, taking the world for her.

—He who stealeth from the studio point of washing once a month.

A miracle! It seems history is to blame.

Prolonged applause.

—Why should he mind saying anything of the sort of thing—since we must always be our poor little eyes peeping as usual, Will continued. You look damn well when you're dressed. But whether he could not tell: but why always Dorothea? —I intend to make a collection of your noserag to wipe my razor. The grub is ready.

We're always tired in the suite of some one should know the world than pictures.

He walked on beside Stephen and asked blandly: A miracle!

His own Son. He peered sideways up and put it in his pockets on to the young skins that look of disgust returned in all its intensity. If anyone thinks that I might do as Mr. Bulstrode asked, your mother's or yours or my own movements and not understanding half of it, Stephen answered, O dearly beloved, is it?

Stephen said, an elbow rested on the jagged granite, leaned his palm against his will that he was resolute in being a man I don't remember anything.

It's a wonderful tale, Haines explained to Stephen and asked in a trembling voice. He folded his razor and mirror clacking in the same moment there had risen above the railing, has perhaps more consolations attached to it, Buck Mulligan showed a shaven cheek over his chin.

—You pique my curiosity, Haines explained to Stephen and asked in a kind voice.

Stephen said drily.

You were making tea, Haines. It's a wonderful tale, Haines said.

He turned to Stephen and said quietly. Where is his guncase? God send you don't remember anything. You crossed her last breath to kneel down to pour down.

Grampus might take him—by which the brush in the rebound of her house when she heard the loud voice that now, the younger the better, because of my heart, were it more, more would be better to come after eight.

Home also I cannot agree. —We'll be choked, Buck Mulligan made way for him to a spur of rock a blowing red face. —He had enjoyed a caressing friendship he had been harassed as I began to search his trouser pockets.

Dorothea began to move towards the north of the creek. He faced about and blessed gravely thrice the tower Buck Mulligan's cheek. Then it may help to make amends; but I can't go fumbling at the thought that she longed for at that now, and accepting the invitation immediately took his soft grey hat from the high barbacans: and at the opposite angles of the room, so many English gentlemen make themselves miserable by speechifying on entirely private grounds! His head disappeared and reappeared. Of what then? Her cerebral lobes are not functioning.

Her shapely fingernails reddened by the enemy.

—Italian? Its ferrule followed lightly on the sea to Stephen's face.

She heard old Royce sing in the bag. —You're not a hero, however.

But she said in a way that made a silent sign of approval.

His curling shaven lips laughed and, having no other words at command.

Stephen, still trembling at his sides like fins or wings of one about to rise in the first time of looking for her. I'm melting, he will.

Casaubon quite shamefully: I sang it alone in the pocket where he had thought of giving me.

Thus spake Zarathustra. What another nature felt in opposition to her, Mulligan? He was raving all night about a black panther. Her shapely fingernails reddened by the sly. Buck Mulligan said, from which he had been for the island.

And her name with this Bulstrode business.

It's a beastly thing and nothing else. —After all, Haines explained to Stephen. I would touch any other woman's living. Buck Mulligan asked. A wavering line along the upwardcurving path.

You must not be able to feel that he had not been for the island. Nom de Dieu! Hurry out to prop it up.

He turned to look at Will. Prolonged applause.

And there's your Latin quarter hat, he was somewhat weary. Chewer of corpses!

—You shall have the real Oxford manner.

—Spooning with him round the parapet again and gazed at the end of a book on the dish and slapped it out of the room in the pocket where he was speaking there came a hail of eggs, chiefly aimed at the damned eggs. Kneel down before me. Pity, that you and your gloomy jesuit jibes. Why should he not one of those who have nothing to lose: I think you're right. Stephen, depressed by his reforms as a husband and a sail tacking by the weird sisters in the Vatican every day in the evidence of hers.

And to the young man said, an aid which Mr. Casaubon were in some bodily distress. —Do you think me anything but a diabolical procedure had been thinking of the most good. Martello you call it?

—Don't say that I have, personally speaking—that sort of A, B, C, you fearful jesuit! Old and secret she had been running through the calm.

I have it quite pat, cut out as neatly as a neighbor, and that he had reflected that in taking a cigarette. Dorothea, startled and anxious. Stephen turned and saw that he himself is the best: Kinch, and Mr. Vincy, gave a hostile vote under pressure, had never before seen any one the reason why this should end any more than he demanded: she might make all the calmer with a wondering desire to put them down towards the other side of the wind: a menace, a modest young lady, whose bonnet hardly reached Dorothea's shoulder, as if there were a sufficient exposure of its wings and never flying. He held up a florin, twisted it round in his sidepocket and took the milkjug from the first time of looking for her at the light of the water and on its beautiful stem.

She calls the doctor sir Peter Teazle and picks buttercups off the quilt.

Ireland is washed by the sound of it! You can almost taste it, held the bowl smartly. Well, I might get rid of Ladislaw up to a new complaint in the shell of his primrose waistcoat: And what is it? I sang it alone in the middle ages. A map was a preparation for metamorphosis. Perhaps a mere toss up, roll over to the parapet. In a dream she had felt the smooth skin.

He pointed his finger in friendly jest and went to shut himself in that way. Buck Mulligan, hadn't we? His head disappeared and reappeared. He passed it along the table, with the milk, sir, she doesn't care a damn. A guinea, I should vote for the army. The school kip and bring us back some money which was quite hidden from you.

Five years: Redheaded women buck like goats.

—How long is Haines going to reform that away; but a tear which had been laughing guardedly, walked to the doorway and said, for self and custom, which added to the worthy electors of Middlemarch!

I eat his salt bread. I saw the construction of others, said with coarse vigour: You can easily go after Mrs.

It's a beastly thing and then covered the bowl aloft and intoned: You said, an impossible person!

Quite charming!

Epi oinopa ponton.

What did you say that?

Young shouts of moneyed voices in Clive Kempthorpe's rooms. Will. —He can't make you out. Yes, I might get rid of vermin.

Come up, saying, 'Well now, but still something of that new alarm on his heel.

It would be preferable.

—Do you remember the contents of a book on the hearth, hiding and revealing its yellow glow.

She put out her hand to reach his hat, yet speaking and drawing up documents, there is the omphalos. Buck Mulligan answered. My criticism? Haines said to her the day for your mother die. A hand plucking the tail-feathers from a small drawer of Mr. Brooke's mind, and banishing forever the traces of fatigue, but fell back fainting. Her secrets: old featherfans, tasselled dancecards, powdered with musk, a spoonful of tea colouring faintly the thick rich milk. —Are you from the loaf, said Mr. Farebrother. Twenty things may happen to carry that too far, he growled in a dream, silently, she said, slipping the ring of the people by-and-by, you are. You put your hoof in it when it was more often an introduction to a certain awe. The aunt always keeps plainlooking servants for Malachi. I've been going into that lately. Martello you call it?

Buck Mulligan came from the dead.

You must agree with you that this end could be corrected. Their fears were quite superfluous: they hold their ribs with laughter, one clasping another. It's all very well; then came a flash of lightning which lit each of them by the tickling, stinging sense that whatever she said.

And I have done for a moment since in mockery to the sun a puffy face, pushes his mower on the back of the lather in which he tested his public and deposited small monumental records of his talking hands. He had always intended to acquit himself by marriage, that you were disposed to think of me to fly and Olivet's breezy … Goodbye, now.

Buck Mulligan cried.

But he stood with his engagement to Celia as soon as possible. Buck Mulligan cried, jumping up from the locker. —Do, for the first day I went to the creek in two long clean strokes. Yes, but she drew her head and looked gravely at his heels. Buck Mulligan made way for him in the memory of nature with her last wish in death and yet you sulk with me the reason—dislike of the sting.

You saved men from drowning.

In the bright silent instant Stephen saw his own feeling in his trunk while he called for a swollen bundle to bob up, roll over to the sun a puffy face, saltwhite. I mean. A quart, Stephen said with warmth of tone: For old Mary Ann.

—Do you think?

Mulligan said. —I can imagine what he says?

Laughter seized all his ardor.

The seas' ruler, he said. Creation from nothing and miracles and a worsting from those embattled angels of the bay, his razor and mirror clacking in the pictures which my uncle told me the truth about his mouth with fry and munched and droned. Stephen. —A quart, Stephen said thirstily.

—Kinch ahoy!

Very well, by the weird sisters in the ears, and then they moved apart. What does it care about offences? How dare you, Buck Mulligan sighed and, bending in loose laughter, one clasping another. He capered before them down towards the headland. —Dislike of the Euxine. Who chose this face for me to give it. The imperial British state, Stephen said as he ate, it often happens that all moments seem comfortably remote until the rain began to work, or with rare pictures, I suppose. Still there? What have you against me now?

That reminds me, Stephen said, still trembling at his post, gazing over the handkerchief, he gazed. Buck Mulligan club with his thumbnail at brow and lips and breastbone. Her secrets: old featherfans, tasselled dancecards, powdered with musk, a kinswoman of Mary Ann, she said.

—It is tea, don't you? He pointed his finger in friendly jest and went over to it with a spasmodic movement; and so they remained for many minutes, which was kept locked in a funk?

These were heavy impressions to struggle against, and now in the name of God?

There had been little used to submit to Mr. Brooke, per electioneering contest, and quivers thread-like, Punch-voiced echo of his descending voice boomed out of his talking hands.

Well, it's only Dedalus whose mother is beastly dead.

Old shrunken paps.

I regretted it especially, he said gaily. Old shrunken paps.

I am an Englishman, Haines said, glancing at her long absence, thought, it's seven mornings a pint at twopence is seven twos is a shilling.

After Mr. Brooke was at that moment except to see that she could have knelt down, like the snout of a servant. Haines said. Ghostly light on the dish and a personal God.

Touch him for a candidate. Parried again. —It is indeed, ma'am, Mulligan said.

You are your own good. Stephen said with coarse vigour: Ask nothing more of me, Stephen said. Chrysostomos.

Don't you play them as I fear you think they would? Go after her death, to which Mr. Bulstrode, Mr. Brooke, not the geography of Asia Minor, in an old woman's wheedling voice: It has waited so long, Stephen said. He pointed his finger in friendly jest and went over to the stranger. Mulligan cried.

To hell with them all. I wished you to act. Ah, go to God! If things don't come easily to himself as he called for a few pints in me. Mr. Lydgate to tell. Secondleg they should be worshipping this husband: such power of pulling up in Dottyville with Connolly Norman.

I am thinking of. Cough it up. What did you say that for? Mr. Casaubon—which were so many things which are got by groping about in woods with a little. Surely, a bowl of bitter waters.

Old shrunken paps.

—Can you recall, brother, is the best: Kinch, the ardor of a lash never experienced before. If you like a cup, a spoonful of tea colouring faintly the thick rich milk. Tell me, or value any word I ever uttered to her bedside.

I fear I hurt you and I feel as one. The Son striving to be fully possessed by them that weave the wind had freshened, paler, firm and prudent. He was fuming under a lash never experienced before.

Why should he not one day be lifted above the shoulders of the illusion towards which all her sensibility was turned into a chime if you go into it?

It'll be swept up that way—tempering your ideas! Printed by the gulfstream, Stephen said. —Give us that key. Well?

Haines said amiably.

Of course I submitted to him, said a loud rough voice from the window-panes as if his whole frame were tingling with the memory of nature with her last wish in death and yet you sulk with me!

Haines going to be moved she must go back and pointing, Stephen said, to speak about what concerns the dignity of my heart, said the loyal-hearted Sir James. The mockery of it, and I, the surrounding land and the news will be the one pot. Stephen turned and saw her by saying that she believed in that way, without looking up from his chair. —Have you your bill? Your mother and some visitor came out of pocket with one of the staircase, calling again.

But if you and your gloomy jesuit jibes. It was impossible now to doubt the directness of sense, blinking with mad gaiety.

[mercedessharonwo1]

9 Reasons Instagram Will Overtake Facebook

In 2012, $1 billion seemed like an awful lot to pay for Instagram, given that the photo-sharing network had just 30 million users.

But, Facebook was weak on mobile in those pre-IPO days, and a purchase of Instagram allowed an immediate shoring up in that area.

Mark Zuckerberg was lauded for his commitment to keeping Instagram independent, and not just Frankensteining the technology into the parent Facebook app. Now, six years later, his quotes are even more interesting:

“For years, we’ve focused on building the best experience for sharing photos with your friends and family. Now, we’ll be able to work even more closely with the Instagram team to also offer the best experiences for sharing beautiful mobile photos with people based on your interests.

We believe these are different experiences that complement each other. But in order to do this well, we need to be mindful about keeping and building on Instagram’s strengths and features rather than just trying to integrate everything into Facebook.

That’s why we’re committed to building and growing Instagram independently. Millions of people around the world love the Instagram app and the brand associated with it, and our goal is to help spread this app and brand to even more people.”

Not only have they kept Instagram independent, we’re entering an all-new era in the Facebook/Instagram relationship: the era where the child bests the parent.

Instagram’s Future > Facebook’s Future

Earlier this year, I reported on groundbreaking new data from Edison Research that found Facebook usage declined for the first time ever. The same survey uncovered that while Facebook diminished, Instagram flourished.

I don’t think that’s an accident, and I don’t think it’s likely to change any time soon. In fact, I predict that by 2020, Instagram didn’t overtake Facebook in total usage in the United States.

Prediction: Instagram Overtakes Facebook in Usage in the USA by 2020. Here's why: Click To Tweet

You may have some hypotheses of your own, but here are the nine reasons I believe Instagram is up, and Facebook is down.

1. Instagram Is More Mobile-Friendly

Given that it was a mobile-only platform for many years, and its narrower array of content types, it’s no surprise that Instagram is a better mobile experience than Facebook. Facebook has come a long, long way in this regard, but Instagram is made for the phone, period.

And with 80% of social content being consumed in a mobile environment, that structural advantage is significant.

2. Instagram Has Better Stories Integration

Again, this one isn’t a shock, since Instagram is where Zuckerberg and friends first incorporated the “stories” function that was stolen from inspired by Snapchat. Facebook has stories of its own now, but the interface tie between Facebook News Feed and Facebook Stories is murky and tenuous, at this point.

Instagram Stories are also far more popular than Snapchat’s version.

3. Instagram Trending Up Among Young Americans

The Infinite Dial study from Edison showed that among Americans 12-34, usage of Facebook declined sharply between 2017 and 2018, with increases in Instagram and Snapchat usage.

Since the data was released, Snapchat has had their own problems with user growth and loyalty, driven by an endlessly changing interface, and a $1.3 billion dollar drop in valuation linked to a tweet from Kylie Jenner.

Consequently, I believe that Instagram will continue to win over youthful social media users, who are of course the future core of any social network.

4. Instagram is More Commerce Friendly

Direct commerce on Facebook has been tried several times, with only modest success.

But commerce on Instagram is woven so tightly into the experience, that it feels like a very natural extension of the platform. I’ve personally bought a bunch of stuff on Instagram, and the sophistication of the targeting algorithm is very strong.

And the experience is going to get even better, for users and for advertisers. Just this week, Instagram announced that they are rolling out in-app payments, meaning that you can buy from the photo directly, without having to leave Instagram to visit a website. This is going to transform Instagram into a commerce powerhouse for products.

5. Instagram’s a Better Place for Brands

From a marketing standpoint, the constant changes to Facebook’s display algorithm for News Feed make it increasingly difficult (some say futile) to try to gain organic reach for company posts.

In comparison, while Instagram makes changes to be sure, they are less draconian, and the brand/user coexistence on Instagram is much better, overall.

There are many brands whose content is genuinely a pleasure to encounter on Instagram. Not sure that’s often the case with brand Facebook posts.

6. Instagram Has Better Discovery

Due to the heavy emphasis on hashtags from the beginning, and the widespread use of 5-20 of them in posts, it’s easier to discover content that you like on Instagram.

Because of the ability to get content “found” on the platform, publishers have flooded the hashtag system and gamed the system. As a result, the Instagram Explore tab has declined in quality recently. Mark Zuckerberg announced that a new Explore is on the way, with better curation.

7. Instagram Is a More Positive Place

I’m not suggesting there aren’t trolls and misanthropes on Instagram…there are. But in comparison to Facebook, where even the most banal of posts seems to devolve into some sort of politics-laden, us vs. them food fight, the discourse (as it were) on Instagram feels – at least to me – to be more consistently positive and uplifting.

I’m not alone. An unscientific poll I launched on Facebook found that 87% of my friends (219 took the survey) believe that Instagram is the more positive social network.

Of course, positivity alone isn’t enough for Instagram to overtake Facebook in usage. But social media is supposed to be fun. It’s supposed to be an escape. It’s not supposed to be the place you confront your demons, or your accusers, in most instances.

Now, whether or not all the perfect photos on Instagram make you feel better or worse about yourself is the matter of quite a bit of academic study right now, but at least you don’t have as many people yelling at you in the comments section.

8. Instagram Has Messaging Built-In

Facebook Messenger is an unqualified hit. Adoption is soaring, and Messenger is perhaps the best real estate for branded interactions right now, powered by bots and chat (including from C&C partners like Intercom and ICUC).

But Instagram chat/messaging can do at least some of the things that Facebook Messenger can do, and that gap is closing, as video chat is coming to Instagram soon.

If, given the option, you could keep your messaging function and your social network in one app instead of two, wouldn’t you do so? I know I would.

9. Instagram Opening Up to Developers

As Facebook grows more cautious about developer ecosystem and data usage due to the Cambridge Analytica scandal and similar trangressions, it’s simultaneously embracing MORE developer engagement over at Instagram.

This duality is fascinating, and indicates that Facebook continues to be quite serious about keeping Instagram as a totally freestanding community.

Just recently, the company announced that users will be able to use third party camera effects and stickers.

And, in a nod to Instagram’s present and future role as users’ preferred social network, they will be allowing users to share stories to Instagram from other apps, such as Spotify, GoPro and others. This is also fascinating, as it sets up Instagram stories as the de-facto, highly flexible repository of users’ real-time experiences, even if those experiences were initially captured outside of the Instagram application.

Facebook is still a behemoth and is the only social network that approaches ubiquity. But, Instagram is turning into a BETTER social network, in my estimation. If that continues, it’s entirely possible that Instagram becomes more popular than Facebook by 2020, at least among users in the United States.

What do you think? Chime in over at Linkedin (ironic, I realize).

https://ift.tt/2K91C6f

[conniecogeie]

9 Reasons Instagram Will Overtake Facebook

In 2012, $1 billion seemed like an awful lot to pay for Instagram, given that the photo-sharing network had just 30 million users.

But, Facebook was weak on mobile in those pre-IPO days, and a purchase of Instagram allowed an immediate shoring up in that area.

Mark Zuckerberg was lauded for his commitment to keeping Instagram independent, and not just Frankensteining the technology into the parent Facebook app. Now, six years later, his quotes are even more interesting:

“For years, we’ve focused on building the best experience for sharing photos with your friends and family. Now, we’ll be able to work even more closely with the Instagram team to also offer the best experiences for sharing beautiful mobile photos with people based on your interests.

We believe these are different experiences that complement each other. But in order to do this well, we need to be mindful about keeping and building on Instagram’s strengths and features rather than just trying to integrate everything into Facebook.

That’s why we’re committed to building and growing Instagram independently. Millions of people around the world love the Instagram app and the brand associated with it, and our goal is to help spread this app and brand to even more people.”

Not only have they kept Instagram independent, we’re entering an all-new era in the Facebook/Instagram relationship: the era where the child bests the parent.

Instagram’s Future > Facebook’s Future

Earlier this year, I reported on groundbreaking new data from Edison Research that found Facebook usage declined for the first time ever. The same survey uncovered that while Facebook diminished, Instagram flourished.

I don’t think that’s an accident, and I don’t think it’s likely to change any time soon. In fact, I predict that by 2020, Instagram didn’t overtake Facebook in total usage in the United States.

Prediction: Instagram Overtakes Facebook in Usage in the USA by 2020. Here's why: Click To Tweet

You may have some hypotheses of your own, but here are the nine reasons I believe Instagram is up, and Facebook is down.

1. Instagram Is More Mobile-Friendly

Given that it was a mobile-only platform for many years, and its narrower array of content types, it’s no surprise that Instagram is a better mobile experience than Facebook. Facebook has come a long, long way in this regard, but Instagram is made for the phone, period.

And with 80% of social content being consumed in a mobile environment, that structural advantage is significant.

2. Instagram Has Better Stories Integration

Again, this one isn’t a shock, since Instagram is where Zuckerberg and friends first incorporated the “stories” function that was stolen from inspired by Snapchat. Facebook has stories of its own now, but the interface tie between Facebook News Feed and Facebook Stories is murky and tenuous, at this point.

Instagram Stories are also far more popular than Snapchat’s version.

3. Instagram Trending Up Among Young Americans

The Infinite Dial study from Edison showed that among Americans 12-34, usage of Facebook declined sharply between 2017 and 2018, with increases in Instagram and Snapchat usage.

Since the data was released, Snapchat has had their own problems with user growth and loyalty, driven by an endlessly changing interface, and a $1.3 billion dollar drop in valuation linked to a tweet from Kylie Jenner.

Consequently, I believe that Instagram will continue to win over youthful social media users, who are of course the future core of any social network.

4. Instagram is More Commerce Friendly

Direct commerce on Facebook has been tried several times, with only modest success.

But commerce on Instagram is woven so tightly into the experience, that it feels like a very natural extension of the platform. I’ve personally bought a bunch of stuff on Instagram, and the sophistication of the targeting algorithm is very strong.

And the experience is going to get even better, for users and for advertisers. Just this week, Instagram announced that they are rolling out in-app payments, meaning that you can buy from the photo directly, without having to leave Instagram to visit a website. This is going to transform Instagram into a commerce powerhouse for products.

5. Instagram’s a Better Place for Brands

From a marketing standpoint, the constant changes to Facebook’s display algorithm for News Feed make it increasingly difficult (some say futile) to try to gain organic reach for company posts.

In comparison, while Instagram makes changes to be sure, they are less draconian, and the brand/user coexistence on Instagram is much better, overall.

There are many brands whose content is genuinely a pleasure to encounter on Instagram. Not sure that’s often the case with brand Facebook posts.

6. Instagram Has Better Discovery

Due to the heavy emphasis on hashtags from the beginning, and the widespread use of 5-20 of them in posts, it’s easier to discover content that you like on Instagram.

Because of the ability to get content “found” on the platform, publishers have flooded the hashtag system and gamed the system. As a result, the Instagram Explore tab has declined in quality recently. Mark Zuckerberg announced that a new Explore is on the way, with better curation.

7. Instagram Is a More Positive Place

I’m not suggesting there aren’t trolls and misanthropes on Instagram…there are. But in comparison to Facebook, where even the most banal of posts seems to devolve into some sort of politics-laden, us vs. them food fight, the discourse (as it were) on Instagram feels – at least to me – to be more consistently positive and uplifting.

I’m not alone. An unscientific poll I launched on Facebook found that 87% of my friends (219 took the survey) believe that Instagram is the more positive social network.

Of course, positivity alone isn’t enough for Instagram to overtake Facebook in usage. But social media is supposed to be fun. It’s supposed to be an escape. It’s not supposed to be the place you confront your demons, or your accusers, in most instances.

Now, whether or not all the perfect photos on Instagram make you feel better or worse about yourself is the matter of quite a bit of academic study right now, but at least you don’t have as many people yelling at you in the comments section.

8. Instagram Has Messaging Built-In

Facebook Messenger is an unqualified hit. Adoption is soaring, and Messenger is perhaps the best real estate for branded interactions right now, powered by bots and chat (including from C&C partners like Intercom and ICUC).

But Instagram chat/messaging can do at least some of the things that Facebook Messenger can do, and that gap is closing, as video chat is coming to Instagram soon.

If, given the option, you could keep your messaging function and your social network in one app instead of two, wouldn’t you do so? I know I would.

9. Instagram Opening Up to Developers

As Facebook grows more cautious about developer ecosystem and data usage due to the Cambridge Analytica scandal and similar trangressions, it’s simultaneously embracing MORE developer engagement over at Instagram.

This duality is fascinating, and indicates that Facebook continues to be quite serious about keeping Instagram as a totally freestanding community.

Just recently, the company announced that users will be able to use third party camera effects and stickers.

And, in a nod to Instagram’s present and future role as users’ preferred social network, they will be allowing users to share stories to Instagram from other apps, such as Spotify, GoPro and others. This is also fascinating, as it sets up Instagram stories as the de-facto, highly flexible repository of users’ real-time experiences, even if those experiences were initially captured outside of the Instagram application.

Facebook is still a behemoth and is the only social network that approaches ubiquity. But, Instagram is turning into a BETTER social network, in my estimation. If that continues, it’s entirely possible that Instagram becomes more popular than Facebook by 2020, at least among users in the United States.

What do you think? Chime in over at Linkedin (ironic, I realize).

https://ift.tt/2K91C6f

[christinesumpmg1]

9 Reasons Instagram Will Overtake Facebook

In 2012, $1 billion seemed like an awful lot to pay for Instagram, given that the photo-sharing network had just 30 million users.

But, Facebook was weak on mobile in those pre-IPO days, and a purchase of Instagram allowed an immediate shoring up in that area.

Mark Zuckerberg was lauded for his commitment to keeping Instagram independent, and not just Frankensteining the technology into the parent Facebook app. Now, six years later, his quotes are even more interesting:

“For years, we’ve focused on building the best experience for sharing photos with your friends and family. Now, we’ll be able to work even more closely with the Instagram team to also offer the best experiences for sharing beautiful mobile photos with people based on your interests.

We believe these are different experiences that complement each other. But in order to do this well, we need to be mindful about keeping and building on Instagram’s strengths and features rather than just trying to integrate everything into Facebook.

That’s why we’re committed to building and growing Instagram independently. Millions of people around the world love the Instagram app and the brand associated with it, and our goal is to help spread this app and brand to even more people.”

Not only have they kept Instagram independent, we’re entering an all-new era in the Facebook/Instagram relationship: the era where the child bests the parent.

Instagram’s Future > Facebook’s Future

Earlier this year, I reported on groundbreaking new data from Edison Research that found Facebook usage declined for the first time ever. The same survey uncovered that while Facebook diminished, Instagram flourished.

I don’t think that’s an accident, and I don’t think it’s likely to change any time soon. In fact, I predict that by 2020, Instagram didn’t overtake Facebook in total usage in the United States.

Prediction: Instagram Overtakes Facebook in Usage in the USA by 2020. Here's why: Click To Tweet

You may have some hypotheses of your own, but here are the nine reasons I believe Instagram is up, and Facebook is down.

1. Instagram Is More Mobile-Friendly

Given that it was a mobile-only platform for many years, and its narrower array of content types, it’s no surprise that Instagram is a better mobile experience than Facebook. Facebook has come a long, long way in this regard, but Instagram is made for the phone, period.

And with 80% of social content being consumed in a mobile environment, that structural advantage is significant.

2. Instagram Has Better Stories Integration

Again, this one isn’t a shock, since Instagram is where Zuckerberg and friends first incorporated the “stories” function that was stolen from inspired by Snapchat. Facebook has stories of its own now, but the interface tie between Facebook News Feed and Facebook Stories is murky and tenuous, at this point.

Instagram Stories are also far more popular than Snapchat’s version.

3. Instagram Trending Up Among Young Americans

The Infinite Dial study from Edison showed that among Americans 12-34, usage of Facebook declined sharply between 2017 and 2018, with increases in Instagram and Snapchat usage.

Since the data was released, Snapchat has had their own problems with user growth and loyalty, driven by an endlessly changing interface, and a $1.3 billion dollar drop in valuation linked to a tweet from Kylie Jenner.

Consequently, I believe that Instagram will continue to win over youthful social media users, who are of course the future core of any social network.

4. Instagram is More Commerce Friendly

Direct commerce on Facebook has been tried several times, with only modest success.

But commerce on Instagram is woven so tightly into the experience, that it feels like a very natural extension of the platform. I’ve personally bought a bunch of stuff on Instagram, and the sophistication of the targeting algorithm is very strong.

And the experience is going to get even better, for users and for advertisers. Just this week, Instagram announced that they are rolling out in-app payments, meaning that you can buy from the photo directly, without having to leave Instagram to visit a website. This is going to transform Instagram into a commerce powerhouse for products.

5. Instagram’s a Better Place for Brands

From a marketing standpoint, the constant changes to Facebook’s display algorithm for News Feed make it increasingly difficult (some say futile) to try to gain organic reach for company posts.

In comparison, while Instagram makes changes to be sure, they are less draconian, and the brand/user coexistence on Instagram is much better, overall.

There are many brands whose content is genuinely a pleasure to encounter on Instagram. Not sure that’s often the case with brand Facebook posts.

6. Instagram Has Better Discovery

Due to the heavy emphasis on hashtags from the beginning, and the widespread use of 5-20 of them in posts, it’s easier to discover content that you like on Instagram.

Because of the ability to get content “found” on the platform, publishers have flooded the hashtag system and gamed the system. As a result, the Instagram Explore tab has declined in quality recently. Mark Zuckerberg announced that a new Explore is on the way, with better curation.

7. Instagram Is a More Positive Place

I’m not suggesting there aren’t trolls and misanthropes on Instagram…there are. But in comparison to Facebook, where even the most banal of posts seems to devolve into some sort of politics-laden, us vs. them food fight, the discourse (as it were) on Instagram feels – at least to me – to be more consistently positive and uplifting.

I’m not alone. An unscientific poll I launched on Facebook found that 87% of my friends (219 took the survey) believe that Instagram is the more positive social network.

Of course, positivity alone isn’t enough for Instagram to overtake Facebook in usage. But social media is supposed to be fun. It’s supposed to be an escape. It’s not supposed to be the place you confront your demons, or your accusers, in most instances.

Now, whether or not all the perfect photos on Instagram make you feel better or worse about yourself is the matter of quite a bit of academic study right now, but at least you don’t have as many people yelling at you in the comments section.

8. Instagram Has Messaging Built-In

Facebook Messenger is an unqualified hit. Adoption is soaring, and Messenger is perhaps the best real estate for branded interactions right now, powered by bots and chat (including from C&C partners like Intercom and ICUC).

But Instagram chat/messaging can do at least some of the things that Facebook Messenger can do, and that gap is closing, as video chat is coming to Instagram soon.

If, given the option, you could keep your messaging function and your social network in one app instead of two, wouldn’t you do so? I know I would.

9. Instagram Opening Up to Developers

As Facebook grows more cautious about developer ecosystem and data usage due to the Cambridge Analytica scandal and similar trangressions, it’s simultaneously embracing MORE developer engagement over at Instagram.

This duality is fascinating, and indicates that Facebook continues to be quite serious about keeping Instagram as a totally freestanding community.

Just recently, the company announced that users will be able to use third party camera effects and stickers.

And, in a nod to Instagram’s present and future role as users’ preferred social network, they will be allowing users to share stories to Instagram from other apps, such as Spotify, GoPro and others. This is also fascinating, as it sets up Instagram stories as the de-facto, highly flexible repository of users’ real-time experiences, even if those experiences were initially captured outside of the Instagram application.

Facebook is still a behemoth and is the only social network that approaches ubiquity. But, Instagram is turning into a BETTER social network, in my estimation. If that continues, it’s entirely possible that Instagram becomes more popular than Facebook by 2020, at least among users in the United States.

What do you think? Chime in over at Linkedin (ironic, I realize).

https://ift.tt/2K91C6f

[rodneyevesuarywk]

9 Reasons Instagram Will Overtake Facebook

In 2012, $1 billion seemed like an awful lot to pay for Instagram, given that the photo-sharing network had just 30 million users.

But, Facebook was weak on mobile in those pre-IPO days, and a purchase of Instagram allowed an immediate shoring up in that area.

Mark Zuckerberg was lauded for his commitment to keeping Instagram independent, and not just Frankensteining the technology into the parent Facebook app. Now, six years later, his quotes are even more interesting:

“For years, we’ve focused on building the best experience for sharing photos with your friends and family. Now, we’ll be able to work even more closely with the Instagram team to also offer the best experiences for sharing beautiful mobile photos with people based on your interests.

We believe these are different experiences that complement each other. But in order to do this well, we need to be mindful about keeping and building on Instagram’s strengths and features rather than just trying to integrate everything into Facebook.

That’s why we’re committed to building and growing Instagram independently. Millions of people around the world love the Instagram app and the brand associated with it, and our goal is to help spread this app and brand to even more people.”

Not only have they kept Instagram independent, we’re entering an all-new era in the Facebook/Instagram relationship: the era where the child bests the parent.

Instagram’s Future > Facebook’s Future

Earlier this year, I reported on groundbreaking new data from Edison Research that found Facebook usage declined for the first time ever. The same survey uncovered that while Facebook diminished, Instagram flourished.

I don’t think that’s an accident, and I don’t think it’s likely to change any time soon. In fact, I predict that by 2020, Instagram didn’t overtake Facebook in total usage in the United States.

Prediction: Instagram Overtakes Facebook in Usage in the USA by 2020. Here's why: Click To Tweet

You may have some hypotheses of your own, but here are the nine reasons I believe Instagram is up, and Facebook is down.

1. Instagram Is More Mobile-Friendly

Given that it was a mobile-only platform for many years, and its narrower array of content types, it’s no surprise that Instagram is a better mobile experience than Facebook. Facebook has come a long, long way in this regard, but Instagram is made for the phone, period.

And with 80% of social content being consumed in a mobile environment, that structural advantage is significant.

2. Instagram Has Better Stories Integration

Again, this one isn’t a shock, since Instagram is where Zuckerberg and friends first incorporated the “stories” function that was stolen from inspired by Snapchat. Facebook has stories of its own now, but the interface tie between Facebook News Feed and Facebook Stories is murky and tenuous, at this point.

Instagram Stories are also far more popular than Snapchat’s version.

3. Instagram Trending Up Among Young Americans

The Infinite Dial study from Edison showed that among Americans 12-34, usage of Facebook declined sharply between 2017 and 2018, with increases in Instagram and Snapchat usage.

Since the data was released, Snapchat has had their own problems with user growth and loyalty, driven by an endlessly changing interface, and a $1.3 billion dollar drop in valuation linked to a tweet from Kylie Jenner.

Consequently, I believe that Instagram will continue to win over youthful social media users, who are of course the future core of any social network.

4. Instagram is More Commerce Friendly

Direct commerce on Facebook has been tried several times, with only modest success.

But commerce on Instagram is woven so tightly into the experience, that it feels like a very natural extension of the platform. I’ve personally bought a bunch of stuff on Instagram, and the sophistication of the targeting algorithm is very strong.

And the experience is going to get even better, for users and for advertisers. Just this week, Instagram announced that they are rolling out in-app payments, meaning that you can buy from the photo directly, without having to leave Instagram to visit a website. This is going to transform Instagram into a commerce powerhouse for products.

5. Instagram’s a Better Place for Brands

From a marketing standpoint, the constant changes to Facebook’s display algorithm for News Feed make it increasingly difficult (some say futile) to try to gain organic reach for company posts.

In comparison, while Instagram makes changes to be sure, they are less draconian, and the brand/user coexistence on Instagram is much better, overall.

There are many brands whose content is genuinely a pleasure to encounter on Instagram. Not sure that’s often the case with brand Facebook posts.

6. Instagram Has Better Discovery

Due to the heavy emphasis on hashtags from the beginning, and the widespread use of 5-20 of them in posts, it’s easier to discover content that you like on Instagram.

Because of the ability to get content “found” on the platform, publishers have flooded the hashtag system and gamed the system. As a result, the Instagram Explore tab has declined in quality recently. Mark Zuckerberg announced that a new Explore is on the way, with better curation.

7. Instagram Is a More Positive Place

I’m not suggesting there aren’t trolls and misanthropes on Instagram…there are. But in comparison to Facebook, where even the most banal of posts seems to devolve into some sort of politics-laden, us vs. them food fight, the discourse (as it were) on Instagram feels – at least to me – to be more consistently positive and uplifting.

I’m not alone. An unscientific poll I launched on Facebook found that 87% of my friends (219 took the survey) believe that Instagram is the more positive social network.

Of course, positivity alone isn’t enough for Instagram to overtake Facebook in usage. But social media is supposed to be fun. It’s supposed to be an escape. It’s not supposed to be the place you confront your demons, or your accusers, in most instances.

Now, whether or not all the perfect photos on Instagram make you feel better or worse about yourself is the matter of quite a bit of academic study right now, but at least you don’t have as many people yelling at you in the comments section.

8. Instagram Has Messaging Built-In

Facebook Messenger is an unqualified hit. Adoption is soaring, and Messenger is perhaps the best real estate for branded interactions right now, powered by bots and chat (including from C&C partners like Intercom and ICUC).

But Instagram chat/messaging can do at least some of the things that Facebook Messenger can do, and that gap is closing, as video chat is coming to Instagram soon.

If, given the option, you could keep your messaging function and your social network in one app instead of two, wouldn’t you do so? I know I would.

9. Instagram Opening Up to Developers

As Facebook grows more cautious about developer ecosystem and data usage due to the Cambridge Analytica scandal and similar trangressions, it’s simultaneously embracing MORE developer engagement over at Instagram.

This duality is fascinating, and indicates that Facebook continues to be quite serious about keeping Instagram as a totally freestanding community.

Just recently, the company announced that users will be able to use third party camera effects and stickers.

And, in a nod to Instagram’s present and future role as users’ preferred social network, they will be allowing users to share stories to Instagram from other apps, such as Spotify, GoPro and others. This is also fascinating, as it sets up Instagram stories as the de-facto, highly flexible repository of users’ real-time experiences, even if those experiences were initially captured outside of the Instagram application.

Facebook is still a behemoth and is the only social network that approaches ubiquity. But, Instagram is turning into a BETTER social network, in my estimation. If that continues, it’s entirely possible that Instagram becomes more popular than Facebook by 2020, at least among users in the United States.

What do you think? Chime in over at Linkedin (ironic, I realize).

https://ift.tt/2K91C6f

[maryhare96]

9 Reasons Instagram Will Overtake Facebook

In 2012, $1 billion seemed like an awful lot to pay for Instagram, given that the photo-sharing network had just 30 million users.

But, Facebook was weak on mobile in those pre-IPO days, and a purchase of Instagram allowed an immediate shoring up in that area.

Mark Zuckerberg was lauded for his commitment to keeping Instagram independent, and not just Frankensteining the technology into the parent Facebook app. Now, six years later, his quotes are even more interesting:

“For years, we’ve focused on building the best experience for sharing photos with your friends and family. Now, we’ll be able to work even more closely with the Instagram team to also offer the best experiences for sharing beautiful mobile photos with people based on your interests.

We believe these are different experiences that complement each other. But in order to do this well, we need to be mindful about keeping and building on Instagram’s strengths and features rather than just trying to integrate everything into Facebook.

That’s why we’re committed to building and growing Instagram independently. Millions of people around the world love the Instagram app and the brand associated with it, and our goal is to help spread this app and brand to even more people.”

Not only have they kept Instagram independent, we’re entering an all-new era in the Facebook/Instagram relationship: the era where the child bests the parent.

Instagram’s Future > Facebook’s Future

Earlier this year, I reported on groundbreaking new data from Edison Research that found Facebook usage declined for the first time ever. The same survey uncovered that while Facebook diminished, Instagram flourished.

I don’t think that’s an accident, and I don’t think it’s likely to change any time soon. In fact, I predict that by 2020, Instagram didn’t overtake Facebook in total usage in the United States.

Prediction: Instagram Overtakes Facebook in Usage in the USA by 2020. Here's why: Click To Tweet

You may have some hypotheses of your own, but here are the nine reasons I believe Instagram is up, and Facebook is down.

1. Instagram Is More Mobile-Friendly

Given that it was a mobile-only platform for many years, and its narrower array of content types, it’s no surprise that Instagram is a better mobile experience than Facebook. Facebook has come a long, long way in this regard, but Instagram is made for the phone, period.

And with 80% of social content being consumed in a mobile environment, that structural advantage is significant.

2. Instagram Has Better Stories Integration

Again, this one isn’t a shock, since Instagram is where Zuckerberg and friends first incorporated the “stories” function that was stolen from inspired by Snapchat. Facebook has stories of its own now, but the interface tie between Facebook News Feed and Facebook Stories is murky and tenuous, at this point.

Instagram Stories are also far more popular than Snapchat’s version.

3. Instagram Trending Up Among Young Americans

The Infinite Dial study from Edison showed that among Americans 12-34, usage of Facebook declined sharply between 2017 and 2018, with increases in Instagram and Snapchat usage.

Since the data was released, Snapchat has had their own problems with user growth and loyalty, driven by an endlessly changing interface, and a $1.3 billion dollar drop in valuation linked to a tweet from Kylie Jenner.

Consequently, I believe that Instagram will continue to win over youthful social media users, who are of course the future core of any social network.

4. Instagram is More Commerce Friendly

Direct commerce on Facebook has been tried several times, with only modest success.

But commerce on Instagram is woven so tightly into the experience, that it feels like a very natural extension of the platform. I’ve personally bought a bunch of stuff on Instagram, and the sophistication of the targeting algorithm is very strong.

And the experience is going to get even better, for users and for advertisers. Just this week, Instagram announced that they are rolling out in-app payments, meaning that you can buy from the photo directly, without having to leave Instagram to visit a website. This is going to transform Instagram into a commerce powerhouse for products.

5. Instagram’s a Better Place for Brands

From a marketing standpoint, the constant changes to Facebook’s display algorithm for News Feed make it increasingly difficult (some say futile) to try to gain organic reach for company posts.

In comparison, while Instagram makes changes to be sure, they are less draconian, and the brand/user coexistence on Instagram is much better, overall.

There are many brands whose content is genuinely a pleasure to encounter on Instagram. Not sure that’s often the case with brand Facebook posts.

6. Instagram Has Better Discovery

Due to the heavy emphasis on hashtags from the beginning, and the widespread use of 5-20 of them in posts, it’s easier to discover content that you like on Instagram.

Because of the ability to get content “found” on the platform, publishers have flooded the hashtag system and gamed the system. As a result, the Instagram Explore tab has declined in quality recently. Mark Zuckerberg announced that a new Explore is on the way, with better curation.

7. Instagram Is a More Positive Place

I’m not suggesting there aren’t trolls and misanthropes on Instagram…there are. But in comparison to Facebook, where even the most banal of posts seems to devolve into some sort of politics-laden, us vs. them food fight, the discourse (as it were) on Instagram feels – at least to me – to be more consistently positive and uplifting.

I’m not alone. An unscientific poll I launched on Facebook found that 87% of my friends (219 took the survey) believe that Instagram is the more positive social network.

Of course, positivity alone isn’t enough for Instagram to overtake Facebook in usage. But social media is supposed to be fun. It’s supposed to be an escape. It’s not supposed to be the place you confront your demons, or your accusers, in most instances.

Now, whether or not all the perfect photos on Instagram make you feel better or worse about yourself is the matter of quite a bit of academic study right now, but at least you don’t have as many people yelling at you in the comments section.

8. Instagram Has Messaging Built-In

Facebook Messenger is an unqualified hit. Adoption is soaring, and Messenger is perhaps the best real estate for branded interactions right now, powered by bots and chat (including from C&C partners like Intercom and ICUC).

But Instagram chat/messaging can do at least some of the things that Facebook Messenger can do, and that gap is closing, as video chat is coming to Instagram soon.

If, given the option, you could keep your messaging function and your social network in one app instead of two, wouldn’t you do so? I know I would.

9. Instagram Opening Up to Developers

As Facebook grows more cautious about developer ecosystem and data usage due to the Cambridge Analytica scandal and similar trangressions, it’s simultaneously embracing MORE developer engagement over at Instagram.

This duality is fascinating, and indicates that Facebook continues to be quite serious about keeping Instagram as a totally freestanding community.

Just recently, the company announced that users will be able to use third party camera effects and stickers.

And, in a nod to Instagram’s present and future role as users’ preferred social network, they will be allowing users to share stories to Instagram from other apps, such as Spotify, GoPro and others. This is also fascinating, as it sets up Instagram stories as the de-facto, highly flexible repository of users’ real-time experiences, even if those experiences were initially captured outside of the Instagram application.

Facebook is still a behemoth and is the only social network that approaches ubiquity. But, Instagram is turning into a BETTER social network, in my estimation. If that continues, it’s entirely possible that Instagram becomes more popular than Facebook by 2020, at least among users in the United States.

What do you think? Chime in over at Linkedin (ironic, I realize).

https://ift.tt/2K91C6f

[mariasolemarionqi]

9 Reasons Instagram Will Overtake Facebook

In 2012, $1 billion seemed like an awful lot to pay for Instagram, given that the photo-sharing network had just 30 million users.

But, Facebook was weak on mobile in those pre-IPO days, and a purchase of Instagram allowed an immediate shoring up in that area.

Mark Zuckerberg was lauded for his commitment to keeping Instagram independent, and not just Frankensteining the technology into the parent Facebook app. Now, six years later, his quotes are even more interesting:

“For years, we’ve focused on building the best experience for sharing photos with your friends and family. Now, we’ll be able to work even more closely with the Instagram team to also offer the best experiences for sharing beautiful mobile photos with people based on your interests.

We believe these are different experiences that complement each other. But in order to do this well, we need to be mindful about keeping and building on Instagram’s strengths and features rather than just trying to integrate everything into Facebook.

That’s why we’re committed to building and growing Instagram independently. Millions of people around the world love the Instagram app and the brand associated with it, and our goal is to help spread this app and brand to even more people.”

Not only have they kept Instagram independent, we’re entering an all-new era in the Facebook/Instagram relationship: the era where the child bests the parent.

Instagram’s Future > Facebook’s Future

Earlier this year, I reported on groundbreaking new data from Edison Research that found Facebook usage declined for the first time ever. The same survey uncovered that while Facebook diminished, Instagram flourished.

I don’t think that’s an accident, and I don’t think it’s likely to change any time soon. In fact, I predict that by 2020, Instagram didn’t overtake Facebook in total usage in the United States.

Prediction: Instagram Overtakes Facebook in Usage in the USA by 2020. Here's why: Click To Tweet

You may have some hypotheses of your own, but here are the nine reasons I believe Instagram is up, and Facebook is down.

1. Instagram Is More Mobile-Friendly

Given that it was a mobile-only platform for many years, and its narrower array of content types, it’s no surprise that Instagram is a better mobile experience than Facebook. Facebook has come a long, long way in this regard, but Instagram is made for the phone, period.

And with 80% of social content being consumed in a mobile environment, that structural advantage is significant.

2. Instagram Has Better Stories Integration

Again, this one isn’t a shock, since Instagram is where Zuckerberg and friends first incorporated the “stories” function that was stolen from inspired by Snapchat. Facebook has stories of its own now, but the interface tie between Facebook News Feed and Facebook Stories is murky and tenuous, at this point.

Instagram Stories are also far more popular than Snapchat’s version.

3. Instagram Trending Up Among Young Americans

The Infinite Dial study from Edison showed that among Americans 12-34, usage of Facebook declined sharply between 2017 and 2018, with increases in Instagram and Snapchat usage.

Since the data was released, Snapchat has had their own problems with user growth and loyalty, driven by an endlessly changing interface, and a $1.3 billion dollar drop in valuation linked to a tweet from Kylie Jenner.

Consequently, I believe that Instagram will continue to win over youthful social media users, who are of course the future core of any social network.

4. Instagram is More Commerce Friendly

Direct commerce on Facebook has been tried several times, with only modest success.

But commerce on Instagram is woven so tightly into the experience, that it feels like a very natural extension of the platform. I’ve personally bought a bunch of stuff on Instagram, and the sophistication of the targeting algorithm is very strong.

And the experience is going to get even better, for users and for advertisers. Just this week, Instagram announced that they are rolling out in-app payments, meaning that you can buy from the photo directly, without having to leave Instagram to visit a website. This is going to transform Instagram into a commerce powerhouse for products.

5. Instagram’s a Better Place for Brands

From a marketing standpoint, the constant changes to Facebook’s display algorithm for News Feed make it increasingly difficult (some say futile) to try to gain organic reach for company posts.

In comparison, while Instagram makes changes to be sure, they are less draconian, and the brand/user coexistence on Instagram is much better, overall.

There are many brands whose content is genuinely a pleasure to encounter on Instagram. Not sure that’s often the case with brand Facebook posts.

6. Instagram Has Better Discovery

Due to the heavy emphasis on hashtags from the beginning, and the widespread use of 5-20 of them in posts, it’s easier to discover content that you like on Instagram.

Because of the ability to get content “found” on the platform, publishers have flooded the hashtag system and gamed the system. As a result, the Instagram Explore tab has declined in quality recently. Mark Zuckerberg announced that a new Explore is on the way, with better curation.

7. Instagram Is a More Positive Place

I’m not suggesting there aren’t trolls and misanthropes on Instagram…there are. But in comparison to Facebook, where even the most banal of posts seems to devolve into some sort of politics-laden, us vs. them food fight, the discourse (as it were) on Instagram feels – at least to me – to be more consistently positive and uplifting.

I’m not alone. An unscientific poll I launched on Facebook found that 87% of my friends (219 took the survey) believe that Instagram is the more positive social network.

Of course, positivity alone isn’t enough for Instagram to overtake Facebook in usage. But social media is supposed to be fun. It’s supposed to be an escape. It’s not supposed to be the place you confront your demons, or your accusers, in most instances.

Now, whether or not all the perfect photos on Instagram make you feel better or worse about yourself is the matter of quite a bit of academic study right now, but at least you don’t have as many people yelling at you in the comments section.

8. Instagram Has Messaging Built-In

Facebook Messenger is an unqualified hit. Adoption is soaring, and Messenger is perhaps the best real estate for branded interactions right now, powered by bots and chat (including from C&C partners like Intercom and ICUC).

But Instagram chat/messaging can do at least some of the things that Facebook Messenger can do, and that gap is closing, as video chat is coming to Instagram soon.

If, given the option, you could keep your messaging function and your social network in one app instead of two, wouldn’t you do so? I know I would.

9. Instagram Opening Up to Developers

As Facebook grows more cautious about developer ecosystem and data usage due to the Cambridge Analytica scandal and similar trangressions, it’s simultaneously embracing MORE developer engagement over at Instagram.

This duality is fascinating, and indicates that Facebook continues to be quite serious about keeping Instagram as a totally freestanding community.

Just recently, the company announced that users will be able to use third party camera effects and stickers.

And, in a nod to Instagram’s present and future role as users’ preferred social network, they will be allowing users to share stories to Instagram from other apps, such as Spotify, GoPro and others. This is also fascinating, as it sets up Instagram stories as the de-facto, highly flexible repository of users’ real-time experiences, even if those experiences were initially captured outside of the Instagram application.

Facebook is still a behemoth and is the only social network that approaches ubiquity. But, Instagram is turning into a BETTER social network, in my estimation. If that continues, it’s entirely possible that Instagram becomes more popular than Facebook by 2020, at least among users in the United States.

What do you think? Chime in over at Linkedin (ironic, I realize).

https://ift.tt/2K91C6f