#but now i think that's uh. a fixable problem. that i might just go ahead and fix

[minwilder]

i don't know what is going on with me lately but the number of things that i took for granted as fundamental aspects about myself that have changed lately is kind of terrifying

[thestarsintheknight]

Fixable Moments in Endgame [Endgame Spoilers, duh]

WHY I PERSONALLY THINK SOME CHARACTER ARCS WERE DONE DIRTY, PUT UNDER THE CUT AND IF THAT DOESN’T WORK I PUT TWO OF MY DOG PICTURES SO YOU CAN SCROLL REALLY FAST.

Just so you know, and this is at the end of the post as well. I still really enjoyed Endgame for what it was and for what we got. I just have a few problems I’m pretty vocal about too. But I’m trying to not let that effect me as much.

LAST WARNING, ENDGAME SPOILERS AHEAD

Okay so hopefully those pictures of my dogs will allow you to calm and relax. If you’ve seen my last post, I was really upset with just how Tony died. 

I first came out of Endgame like, okay that was pretty okay closure, sure. Steve’s happy and Tony can finally rest and everyone’s alive and Natasha could be at peace with herself because of well, her ledger.

Then I kept thinking. No. They didn’t deserve this end.

Nat’s death was the only death done well. The only one. But I have more about the soul stone later on. 

Steve didn’t really die, and I knew he was gonna not be Captain America but I was curious as to how. I also really wanted Sam to wield that shield because even if Shuri cleaned Bucky of his whole Hydra-ness in his brain, I really do think Sam deserved that shield. So good on you Russos. Because in TWS, it’s said that Sam’s just like Steve, just slower. Steve is the embodiment of Captain America, if that’s the case then that means so is Sam. 

But why in the world did Steve decide to go back in time and be with Peggy? It was pretty closely put there in the show, Agent Carter, and in general that Peggy ended up with Daniel Sousa. Or just someone who wasn’t Steve. Why did Steve have a thing with Sharon in CW then? What was the point of her character? Sharon was badass, but like come on Russos!!! Steve is not one to see something going south and look the other way. That was very well established in CW, directed by the Russos. Yet he goes back in time, sticks with Peggy knows the things he knows about everything (like the Cold War, BUCKY) and you’re telling me he decided to have a domestic life? No!!! IF he even decided to stay back there, he would not sit still. He would have done something. Plus, you can’t say that when Sharon was born and Steve became her uncle that’s a little fucking weird. What the hell was Steve’s ending Russos? Steve’s arc was throughout his trilogy and later Avengers movies was finding his place in the modern world and finding Bucky. He did so much to get Bucky back only to leave him?! Come on, he knows how it feels to be alone in a different time why would he do that to Bucky? Someone who he fought for and said “Till the end of the line” but he broke that promise. Steve’s at the end of his line already by the end of Endgame. So what’s left of that promise? Nothing, it was dusted. 

So yeah, I’m upset about Steve’s ending. An entirely better way could have just been that maybe he’s the one that dies (I would have been upset probably, but it would be very him) instead of Tony. Because Steve has always been the one to sacrifice himself. That would be his arc, seeing the situation going so fucking south that he’s like “Whatever it takes!!” And he gets that gauntlet and snaps. Or maybe he loses his super soldier serum and that’s how he survives but gives the shield to Sam instead. I haven’t really thought of this one so you can add on.

Tony, god Tony’s ending fucking hurt. Tony’s death, his funeral, all of it. It was unfair. All he wanted was a domestic life but the Russos gave that to Steve even though Steve’s character would not want that domestic life? Tony could have been rested not by death but with his little girl, his wife, Peter who he finally got back, knowing that his friendship with Steve is better now. And could grow better if the two were still alive. That was Tony’s deserved arc, fighting the fight to end the fight so he could GO HOME and be with his FAMILY. That’s what should have happened. That’s what he deserved. Go ahead and tell me otherwise. I know it’s shorter of an explanation than Steve’s but that’s mostly because people know Tony better and I think people can agree with me on this more. Pepper didn’t deserve to see Tony die, Peter too, and his best fucking friend Rhodey. They knew he fought this fight to end it so he could spend some time and just retire to be with his family. 

Ways to fix this: Not kill Tony. Have someone else wield the gauntlet. Steve perhaps? Or maybe even Thor. 

Edit [4/29/19]: I am now a little more accepting of Tony’s death but I’m just tired that it has to be through death to have the future Avengers come in. I’m tired that there always has to be angst and whatnot(which I talk about towards the end of this meta) to make things realistic. Realistic =/= sadness and negativity and all of that shit. Happy endings can be realistic. But I’ll always be sad. Here’s a good meta that explains something very well regarding his death: (link) by @van-dyne. 

I would have actually been fine if Tony died if he didn’t have his little girl. (Find Tinymintywolf’s side twitter, not her art twitter, for an explanation on this). But then they introduced Morgan and whoop there it is, he has a family what he’s been wanting for so long. 

Thor is an Asgardian and we’re all aware of how much his mental health was hit. Yet he was reduced to a fucking joke. Like wow hahahaha so funny—not. I feel like, Thor wouldn’t need a redemption arc. But I know in his mind, he’d feel like he should because he blames himself, right? If he were to wield the gauntlet instead, it would make himself feel better about himself, better about being the king his people needed while still being an Avenger. Thor also shouldn’t have left his people. So let’s say he does wield the gauntlet. He goes back to his people and he finally feels worthy to lead. So that’s what he does, he finally gets back to being the king that his character arc had developed for him in his own trilogy, and being an Avenger. That should have happened.

It just makes sense because each movie was mostly about him building his way up to become the king he was supposed to be. Those few lines he exchanged with Valkyrie along the lines of “maybe I shouldn’t be the person I’m supposed to be but rather the person I [need/want] to be” ??? I can’t remember. I just thought that was lowkey like, wot. But for further emphasis, the first movie was about how he wasn’t worthy to hold the hammer or even be king. The second one was figuring out how to be a good man and a king. The third was trying to figure if he was the one to actually be king, and at the end of Ragnarok, he is. 

If Thor weren’t to wield it, then maybe Hulk. What if Bruce just lost Hulk. Then it’s just Bruce and he could be himself. Like the whole Professor Hulk thing was pretty interesting and I didn’t have a problem with it. This is just a little thought that I didn’t really think much on so you can add on to this too.

Now we get to Nat. Nat and Clint’s little fight with each other was very much in character. I don’t really like MCU Clint, I think the whole farmhouse scene could have still been done with one minor change, Laura’s not his wife, it’s his sister or his sister-in-law because he has a brother, Barry!!! Then all those kids are like his nieces/nephews. Anyways, that was the only death that was done that I feel sad but I feel so much closure on, Tony’s, Steve’s, and even Thor’s endings gave “closure” not the right one for each character, as explained before. I’m just upset that there wasn’t a funeral scene for her, or more grieving. Or just, something. 

Then here’s a little idea, not sure if it could work but if Steve was going to go return the soul stone at Vormir, the way the rules work at that mountain is “A soul for a soul” right? Then by giving up the soul stone, can’t he bring back Nat? And if that’s the case then Clint should be the one returning the soul stone. So maybe the reason why when Bruce said (and I got this from a different tumblr post, I forgot who so let me know so I can give credit) he couldn’t bring Nat back was because they already gave the soul stone back (because time travel is whack) and Nat is already back. 

There’s so much more that I’m probably forgetting, I may update or just reblog more. If you guys want to talk or vent, please feel free! I don’t bite! And I’m open to other ideas and just how you think it should have ended. 

Here’s a disclaimer as well: This is not something against the actors and actresses, they all did so well. I think it’s in part a bit of Russos and the writers and anyone else who develops this story. I’m also not saying this because I’m sad Tony’s dead and Steve is no longer Captain America. I would have been fine with Steve not being Captain America anymore if done right.

Also, why does everything always have to be so dark? So edgy? Angsty? It’s fictional so can’t we just... Have that sort of happiness? I’ve watched the MCU for hope, happiness, and you know a good ending. It’s not what I got though. I love the characters, all of them. I like little pellets of angst here and there. But just, why? I’m not sure if I can keep watching the MCU. I still might but I might also just disregard bits and pieces of Endgame.

I just think that the moment you bring in time travel it screws things up. Because essentially it brings in the whole multiverse and if we’re trying the make the MCU one singular timeline, then, uh, hello? Also the entire thing with five years passed but everyone comes back from the moment they disappeared, WOT. Okay, I’m done.

[Minor edit in this Paragraph, 4/29]Overall, I still enjoyed Endgame. A lot. There were so many good moments and a lot of moments where the characters were just them. I loved it a lot and I’m trying to overlook a few things here and there because what I’ve said shouldn’t ruin the movie. I still really enjoyed it a lot. It was good because this was the movie we’ve been waiting for. A nod to the fans, the actors, everyone who created this universe. It was just something that was amazing. @suitofhumour had a really strong point in their post (link) that I’m alluding to here and I don’t want to take credit for it so please, give it a read. Some things don’t sit right with me and I’m so fucking heartbroken over Tony okay, and I’m mad about Steve and Thor. But, yeah. 

[Edit 5/5/19] I GOT ANOTHER THING. If what the former Sorcerer Supreme had said that if one stone got removed from their timeline, there’s nothing that can keep the flow of time, reality, whatever, in check and would ultimately destroy their timeline. Which is why Steve had to go back in time to give it all back seconds after removing it. By that logic, can’t you say that if you were to destroy the stones, then wouldn’t it mean there are no more stones to keep all of the flow of whatever in check? So since the OG timeline no longer has the stones because their Thanos destroyed it, then what? 

Here’s another picture of my dog to calm you down. If needed.

[rough-and-whump]

Rough is a Whumpee

So, yeah, this might end up being a series, ha ha! I tend to hurt myself a lot and this might be a fun thing for me.

Please keep in mind: I might “whumpify” some of my experiences to make it more interesting in a whump context.

I’m not sure if this might be a trigger for anyone, but obvs don’t read this too much if you don’t like the idea of “whump” type things happening to real people. 

Again, I do this for fun, and I’m as clumsy as a three-legged camel walking blindfolded and backwards on a snow-capped mountain.

Some context:

I do karate. Been practicing for about 9 years. I started as an adult and am one of the longer standing members of my club right now. Most of my peers in the front line have been practicing for 20+ years.

I have chosen to do this to myself, because it’s part of what I view as “my journey” as a martial artist. Plus also, I mean, my injuries in karate have never been that serious - I’m partially lucky, but mostly smart about how I fight and who I fight, lol!

I totally have a lot of times when I get hurt. Most times, it’s not bad - it’s just low-level stuff that bothers me during the day. But when I describe it, it definitely does sound bad - I find it’s okay, like, I can still function; but lots of folks I talk to about my injuries look at me like I’m stupid. But, frankly, I can’t afford to just stay home whenever I feel a bit uncomfortable. XD

The incident:

Canada Day Parade with my karate club. It’s been rainy and wet. We know that this makes boards harder to break, but we (me and my student) still wanted to do it. 

Boards seem fine, our test breaks two days before the Parade went well.

Parade time. First three breaks for me go fine. But there’s definitely more hurt in these boards than the ones we broke last year. Still decide to go ahead.

Break four, last of the parade. In front of a group of small kids, namely girls. It’s my student and my fave corner for breaks since the crowd is usually really amped up. 

It’s been raining now for the last twenty minutes - our boards are soaked. We know this, but we still go for it because we’re idiots.

I set up for an elbow break. I’ve done two of these and a front punch break all fine up to now. So I figure, okay, I can do this. Just all the power.

Fire it up, annnnnd... first one - bounce. Don’t swear, try again. Full power. Bounce.

I switch to a hammer fist break and get through it, but ooowwwwwww.

The consequence:

I have some righteous bruising on my elbow and hand from my two good elbow breaks, the front punch and the hammer fist. I don’t bruise easily and I have an olive/tan skin tone, so bruises don’t generally show through. But these are a niiiiice deep purple, ha ha!

Aaaaaand I have a separated AC joint in my right shoulder.

The whump, mental side:

The doubt of whether or not the injury is actually as bad as it is.

Don’t want to seem “weak”, so I often brush off pain that requires frequent and often medication.

Also don’t want to make a big deal if this really isn’t so bad. It isn’t a full on dislocation, it’s fixable, so it can’t be that bad.

Buuuut, legit it hurts. I refuse to take a bunch of painkillers because I don't like how they make me feel. I'm trying to make do using weed and rest.

Part of why I'm purposefully avoiding strong pain killers is also because when I've done that in the past, I've also ended up trying to "push through" my injury and it makes my recovery longer.

Extending on the point above: I’m purposefully choosing to feel more pain so that I know when to kinda pull back from what I’m doing. This said, I still feel it. So I’m spending the day with increased tension in my neck (manifesting headaches to boot) and a bit of mind fog from just having to devote some of my mind to ignoring the pain.

Details on the painkiller thing: I’m choosing not to use Robax, Motrin, or Tylenol much because I legit had a problem with them a few years back. I never developed any actual bad liver or kidney problems, but I was taking about a bottle of Robax Platinum every week for three weeks at one point. That’s a lot of Robax. And that was a recent blip. Before I was diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety and Clinical Depression, I turned to Robax and alcohol to manage my symptoms of panic and feelings of worthlessness. It really did a number on me. There were a lot of factors pushing me into that corner. Honestly, I wish I had access to weed at that time, because it would have helped me so much to have alternative, healthier, and less harmful pain relief and anxiety help. 

When I first stopped taking Robax and chose to just deal with the pain as best I could, it took me about a month to realize that I was feeling better and better and better. I didn’t know why - I thought hey maybe it was just weather or something. But after some more reflection and a bit of experimentation, I found that it was actually the chemical painkillers that made me feel that way.

Legit I was addicted to painkillers. I went from liking the relief I got from two Robax at a time to needing to take four at a time to get a sort of “high” feeling - I could put on “robax glasses” that made it easier to deal with my abusive boss, the blatant illegal activity happening at work, and the toxic work environment and shit pay.

The whump, physical stuff (aka the good stuff):

I can’t lift my right arm over my head, combined with being a creature of habit and right handed, it’s lead to a lot of “fuck, ow!” moments when reaching up for some stationary at the office or when reaching for something in the cabinets in the kitchen.

Sharp pains occasionally - not often - kind of radiates up and down in severity. I can’t find a trigger for it yet, if there is one. It could just be pain ‘cause it’s a busted shoulder. 

Pains tend to be:

“heat” at the shoulder itself

“radiating” lines of tension and sharp pulling pains up across the collarbone towards the base of the neck, up the side of the neck, into the right side of my head (somehow?! when I went to get accupuncture, that point was suuuuper effective/painful), and down towards the meeting point of all the lat muscles in the mid back.

The neck pain is the worst, it sends shooting pains up the right side of my head, and definitely puts me “on edge”.

Typing is a fresh horror. I work an office job in tech and do a lot of typing in my day, so I had to figure out with our office wellness dude (who is such a darling and so sweet, and legit he and I schedule “meetings” that end up just us chatting about our weekend adventures) how to set up my station so I keep my arm internally rotated.

Side note: legit, this separated shoulder thing is a much bigger deal than I think I want it to be. I’m scared of it, really. I don’t want to lose the full function of my right arm - I need to fight with it, plus I need to still be able to “Simba raise” my cat into the air on sunny mornings.

He was telling me I should look into getting a sling so it’s supported while I’m just sitting/not using it. I’m ok without one at work cause I can set up my station so my elbow is supported and I can keep my arm internally rotated. But like, this guy doesn’t make a big deal out of nothing - if he’s advising me to get a sling, I really should consider it... he’s a trained kinesiologist and former physiotherapist, like, he knows what he’s talking about. XD

Headache onset by 11:25 AM. Shit, I wish I took my CBD oil to work. 

It’s definitely a constant presence in my mind - it makes working harder to a degree because a part of my mind is just always firing. But at the same time, work is also better because I have a reason to kind of fully invest myself mentally into work - the pain also sort of drives it. But it’s exhausting and unsustainable. 

Fictional Whump Thoughts From This:

Again, this is me dramatizing my thoughts. I don’t actually think exactly like this - there are parts that are true, but most of it is just me using my experience as a whump jumping point.

“Ah! Fuck... Dammit.” (in response to trying to do a movement drill on Saturday but realizing even just pulling back my left arm with power makes my right shoulder hurt)

“No no, I’m good, it’s okay. It’s just that it hurts a bit and I can’t lift heavy things, but I can still do a lot - it’s okay.”

“Hey, uh, could, um, could I get help out to the car with this?” (sheepishly asked at the grocery store for four measly bags - I ended up just carrying the light stuff on the right side and taking forever because it took too long and I was too embarrassed to wait for help. I’m otherwise able, so I shouldn’t use resources, right?)

“Oh, no, it’s fine - it’s a small price to pay, really. I felt super badass.” (Truth, but some people don’t get it)

[This is less fictional more real, but let’s say it’s dramatized a bit]: I’m really glad this happened to me and not one of my students. I’ve trained for this. And I signed up to do the board breaking knowing it would be harder, more risky and I would certainly be injured. If nothing else, I anticipated bloodied knuckles (I still have the scars from last year’s parade). This would have seriously injured a younger, less experienced student of mine - and would have had lasting mental consequences. Especially done in a public setting like a parade. A lot of people think the boards we break are fake or styrofoam. McDojos might do that, but my club has a history of hard, traditional-style training. Our boards are half inch pine. They’re easier to break, but they still hurt.

“fuck, this is hard without painkillers... this without painkillers or weed?... ugh, my day is gonna be way harder than it should be.”

[In response to my boyfriend’s question of ‘what can I do to make it better?’]: “Naw, I’m good, it’s just me complaining. Don’t mind me, it’s fine. Just complaining about it makes it easier to deal with the pain.”

There’s a definite sense of irritation that I can’t do my usual activities to reduce tension in my neck. I can’t shake my head quickly, my neck mobility is limited, I’m getting tension pains in my left trap now, great.

When I’m in consistent, low-level pain, I often forget to breathe. When deep breathing pulls on the muscles in the shoulder due to how all the torso muscles connect, it makes it even worse.

Okay, legit tho, I’m starting to feel bummed out. So I’mma go throw myself into work.

Again, this is something I did to myself. A lot of my online friends don’t get why I’m so dedicated to this. But I’ve noticed martial artists all react to my injuries with the same reaction I have - sympathetic, but ultimately we’re a bunch of testosterone-ridden fools who like to brag about battle scars. And then ask for heat packs or back rubs ‘cause we’re bunches of teddy bears when we’re not fighting each other.

Anyways, legit this could probably turn into a series for me. I tend to be the whumpee or the caretaker in a lot of scenarios. 

Is this something y’all are good with? Would you prefer this be formatted differently? Anything else you want to know? Otherwise I’mma keep doin’ it just like this.

[the-erickson-labrynthian]

Death, by Brandon Erickson

Another short story I wrote recently about the final moments between two close friends before one succumbs to his wounds. This one’s a bit longer than the last one, I apologize in advanced for mobile because I know sometimes the ‘keep reading’ doesn’t show up and this is over 4000 words XD. Forgive me for my transgressions, please, I just didn’t wanna separate it into parts, ruins the tone.I hope you enjoy, if you like my writing or my style be sure to check out more of my blog, or check out my commissions, they’re pretty coolio to the moolio. And uh, yeah. Enjoy. Be sure to tell me what you think.

Death, by Brandon Erickson (Word Count: 4424):

The two boys were struggling to keep forward as the small crowd chased behind them. They were far back, but making headway, tumbling towards the pair at breakneck speeds for the social reward of bring their bodies back to the Duke. Dead or alive, because they were only special for their opposition, nothing more. Certainly why, of course, the Duke felt no discouragement from attacking one of the pair right where they stood, in the middle of their diatribes of peace and honesty and justice, and why of course he felt no apprehension towards making the attack as strong and piercing as he did, a little beam, struck like a bolt with deep seeded fangs into the chest. A familiar light and beam, to one of them. And after it struck and they got to their feet running, once again the Duke had no quarrel with sending his troops to finish the rest, end it all, bring back corpses.

Cyrus did his best to hold tight to his friend and push him forward, but the damage had left Dutch limping, and screaming, with his face morphing through a thousand expressions a minute as a flurry of feelings circled around him.

“Urgh,” He gritted his teeth but the anguish pushed through, “This is very painful.”

Dutch could crack a joke at his own expense, but Cyrus couldn’t stop thinking ahead, looking all around in desperation for something hide in but seeing nothing but an expanse of silent buildings and grey empty streets. They twisted and turned as best as they could to confuse their pursuers, but each time they had to even tilt a direction other than forward another sharp yell would come from Dutch.

“I’m just incredibl-ahrg-crediby surprised by how much ehhhh” He groaned, “Pain I’m in.”

Cyrus couldn’t avoid speaking in a whimper as his mind worked on a plan, “Stop talking, you’ll make it worse.”

“Oh… breathing makes it worse. I… think being, ehr, makes it worse.”

“A few more turns and then maybe we’ll lose ‘em.”

From the hollering echoing throughout the streets, that seemed like a lie. But, into another alleyway that almost turned into a dead-end—a near fatal mistake—Cyrus spotted that what he thought was a wall was really a large gate, a fence with green metal behind it that covered the other side. No barbed wire. Mistake turned miracle. Could go to the other side and hide. He turned Dutch towards the fence and flinched at the painful response. Dutch’s expression worsened as he saw it.

“Oh no… we’re not-”

“They might not see us behind it. Think you could climb up it?”

He laughed, “Uhhh, I… can climb it. I don’t what I’ll be like once I’m down it, though.” “Easily our best shot. I can help you up. C’mon.”

Cyrus hurried Dutch over and bent down, letting Dutch step up his back to grab the top of the fence. Cyrus then held onto his feet until he pulled himself to the top, before jumping up and grabbing the top himself, lifting up and over before Dutch could lose his balance and fall to the ground. Once he was on the other side he reached his arms out towards Dutch.

“I got you.”

“Hehe, I would have my doubts, but I don’t have a… ehhh,” He leaned over and fell into Cyrus’ arms before finishing his thought.

Cyrus held onto him and looked around. Standard walls of slimed grey like the other side of the fence, though behind them was a rusted door that was so evenly split between blue and burnt brown one couldn’t tell which color came first. The door was partially opened, but he could barely see what was inside.

“C’mon… we can go inside and get you lying down. Maybe then I can figure out how to help you.”

Dutch laughed at the notion, but Cyrus had no idea why. The two carefully went over to the open door and Cyrus moved it open as slow as he could, though that didn’t stop the creaks from being any less screeching. They stepped inside carefully, Cyrus eyeing everything he could to see if it was safe while Dutch barely looked at anything, continuing his small exclamations of pain in a softer tone. From his estimation, Cyrus couldn’t see that anyone was here, or had been in here, for a long time.

As he got his bearings, he realized it wasn’t anything abnormal at all, just a few empty rooms with standard wooden walls. A house. A real one, too. Nothing was in it, though. Not in this room they first entered, which from the ripped apart carpeting below appeared to be the living area. Cyrus took Dutch to the far corner of this room and carefully let go of him, telling him to lay down and rest while he found a light switch. Dutch obliged and slowly sunk down onto the carpet, feeling at the texture of the small and tightly woven strands that were like bristles. Cyrus rubbed his hands all along the walls, but nothing rubbed back except for cold and faint dust that he wiped against his pants, until the fourth wall yielding a small sliding switch. He moved it up and down and looked up to the ceiling. Nothing. Not even a hum or a spark. Time did that to things.

He went back over to Dutch and starting rubbing his hands together, “Okay, I was gonna save a bit of my energy, but it would be nice to be able to see a bit, so…” He held his hands outwards with his fingers extended and spaced out, trembling as he darted his eyes between the two of them, his pupils enlarging until a faint glow emitted from the distance in between the hands, a softer caramel light that was easier on the eyes. He clenched his fist and the light released from its prisionment and circled about until he moved his hands and guided it to the ground beside them. He let out relieving sigh as his shakiness left him, then got down on his knees and observed his friend.

“How are you holding up?”

“Constant pain, but now that I’m not moving as much, it’s muddled down. Hurts to talk, but I like talking, so I guess I’ll deal with that.”

“Where’s the pain coming from? If I know the source I might be able to discern the spell, and maybe then fix it. Is it here?” He applied a small amount of force onto Dutch’s side.

“No, that feels nice, a little. Touching me doesn’t make it worse. And… the pain is everywhere.”

“What do you mean, everywhere? It can’t be everywhere.”

Dutch laughed, “Pain spells have that tendency.”

“Even then there’s a source. Something. And it wouldn’t hurt to move if it was just neurological, right? Those spells just simulate pain, they don’t cause real damage.”

“They don’t… yeah, but that’s because this isn’t a pain spell.”

“Urg,” He rubbed his hands against his cheeks, “It’s gotta be something else then. Some internal hemorrhaging. That’s ridiculously powerful to be so precise like that… but then again… there’d still be a source.”

Dutch watched his friend get up and pace about the room—like he always did—trying to work out some solution. Every problem is fixable to some people. Can’t see what’s right in front of them, or they’d lose the only grip or power on reality they have. He chuckled a bit.

“Please don’t try to lighten the mood. This is serious.”

“There wouldn’t be a need to lighten the mood if it wasn’t serious.”

Cyrus dug his face into his hands, “We could be found out in any moment. We need to get help back at one of the stables or something, but you’re in no shape to keep moving, clearly. Unless, you could-”

“No. It’s pretty bad. I doubt I could get up without going into hysterics again. I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault. We’ll have to work with what we’ve got. Maybe I don’t have my book on me, but I can figure something out nevertheless. I knew I should’ve kept my bag with me.”

“The book isn’t a miracle worker, Cyrus.”

“Went from healing a cut to healing a severed arm reading it. I’d be better right now. Better equipped to get out. But I had… I had to leave it.”

“Stop whining, you don’t have it. Doesn’t matter anyways. That was just healing an arm.”

Cyrus circled about in frustration, his hands fidgeting around while he thought. Dutch felt the small pressure of pain increase, yet this time he made no sound. Maybe he built up a tolerance fast, he thought. If only he could build a tolerance to the damage, too.

Before he held onto that thought long Cyrus was already back by his feet and patting around his body, “Please give me anything your feeling, I need to know if there’s any weak spot.”

“I just feel pain, everyone. No part is worse. But, pressure feels good.”

“I’m sure there’s somewhere on you, maybe where he hit you, your chest?” Cyrus pushed into Dutch’s chest and Dutch let out little more than the slightest of moans from the intensity of the force subsiding the feeling of pain, even if for a moment. “Nothing?” He asked.

“Nothing wrong. You’re trying hard but I’m telling you it’s just constant. I just… am feeling pain.”

“What… just feeling pain? Like… it’s… just infecting your consciousness?”

“Like it’s… becoming a part of me. My existence just feels like its pain. I don’t how to describe the feeling, but it’s like every possible action is tied to pain. Breathing, talking, thinking, just the act of existing is bring me pain.”

“That sounds unbearable.”

“I’m used to unbearable things…” He chuckled.

Cyrus let out a huff, “But, there’s no spell I’ve ever heard of that does that. It makes no sense. Just pain? I could just kill the pain, then, if there’s nothing being damaged. Just… a painkiller trick, simple,” He started rubbing his hands together again.

“I told you,” He couldn’t help but laugh, “There’s nothing you’re gonna be able to do about this. Nothing you can heal.”

Cyrus grabbed at his head, “You’re making no sense! You act like you know what’s happening-”

Dutch let out a few coughs, “I do. I know exactly what’s happening. I knew it the second the spell hit me.”

Cyrus’ expression widened and he resisted hitting his friend, “What do you mean you already knew? You knew the whole time what was wrong with you and you never gave me a word? You just let yourself get worse and made it impossible for me to help you?”

“Well, you couldn’t.”

He held back in a scream in his anger, “What do you mean? What spell was it?”

“Cochlea Mortem.”

Suddenly his confusion made Cyrus speak in the same whisper as his friend, “What?”

“Cochlea Mortem. Or for the French it was La Mort de L’Escargot. Death of the snail. Snail’s Death. Funny wording, makes it sound like I’m the snail. Snail’s are pretty nice, I guess.”

“Snail’s Death? That spell… what? I heard about it once in old books, but people basically thought it was just fear mongering from dark mages to scare people. It was an old myth! From like… hundreds of years ago.”

“Myths because those people are dead. Most people are dead when they hear of it. Only way to know about it is to see it. And… I’ve seen it.”

“I’ve barely ever heard of it. Never seen it. How could you have seen it?”

“I knew you wouldn’t have seen it. Soldiers see. Bookworms learn. Usually that comes in handy, but not with death. Books don’t really do much for dead people. Can help dispose of them properly, though.”

“It can’t be that, though, right? You’re not… dying?”

“Cochlea Mortem is exactly what it sounds like. It’s slow. You couldn’t see it. Only I can feel it.”

“How? You’re not cut. Damaged. Anything?”

“Funny, I feel pretty cut. It looked the same back then, but it was a good ten years ago when I was just little more than a scout, I saw this much older man dealing with it. A lot like me, he kept talking. But, soon it was hard. He described it like a man… going through a house, turning off every appliance as he goes through. A slow shutdown of everything you are… on a consciousness level… until you’re nothing. Like… boiling your spirit into vapor. I feel it now.”

“Feel what?”

“Like I’m draining away, drop by drop.”

“Well… okay, maybe you have this Snail’s Death, I’m sure I can heal it. There’s gotta be a cure.”

Dutch let out a small sigh, “You said you heard of it. No one talks about it without mentioning that there’s no cure.”

“A hundred years ago there wasn’t a cure for petrification. We learn. We get better. I can do this. I’ll be the first one to do it.”

“Go ahead. Do something. I’m not going anywhere. Not sure if I can feel my legs at this point or not. I can wiggle my toes, but… I feel like if I stood on them, I’d phase right through my own legs.”

Cyrus stood up, “Of course I’ll try. You need me to, even if you won’t admit it.”

He rubbed his hands together for a minute, his eyes closed and visualizing as he did. There began to be a vacuum like feeling in the room, like thoughts were being ripped right out of the air to fuel his hands. Dutch found it hard to think, and his feelings were being pulled from him. At least it took the pain, too. Everything as Cyrus worked with his face clenched tight in focus. After another moment he stopped rubbing and moved his hands outwards once more, opening his eyes. His body trembled this time, with his legs shimmying weakly and his head twitching about. Like before, his pupils grew, and of course with so much power this time they grew to consume his whole eyes, this pure black that Dutch almost got lost in looking at. From his hands there began to emit a forest green like glow, but this glow also seemed to come from his head, like it leaked from his ears. Dutch had no clue what he was doing at this point, that kind of magic was never his thing.

Without warning the glow on his hands turned blue and he flicked them towards Dutch to pass the light over. Dutch closed his eyes in a wince of fear, but after a moment of no feeling he opened them to see nothing. The magic did nothing at all, like it went through him. He looked up at Cyrus to see his eyes still engrossed, yet sad. Next thing he knew all the energy in the room dropped and Cyrus’ head fell forward as he let go. He tilted his head back upwards at Dutch and walked over to him.

“Nothing, huh?”

“Nothing.”

“Of course. Not even putting all of my energy into thinking helped me come up with the right spell. I’m too weak.”

“You’re not weak. I told you, there’s nothing to be done. I just get to sit here and watch it all fall away.”

“I wish I could be better for you. It’s not fair.”

“I spent forever wishing I could better for you. That’s just how life is. But, you don’t have to keep wasting your energy on helping me. Just sit here. I’d feel a lot better if you would just be here and talk with me.”

“Really?”

“All that magic will get someone to find us anyways, and you’ve gotta get out of here soon.”

“We’ve got to head back soon. Escape and tell the others about his attack on Eastwick.”

“Yeah… we do. But… I need to lie down here for a while. Just sit with me. Please?”

Cyrus looked into the eyes of his long faithful companion, and they pleaded at him. Pleaded for comfort and warmth. Pleaded to sit with the person they love most.

“I’ll sit here with you. As long as you need me to.”

“Cool,” He chuckled.

Cyrus patted his hand against his friends stomach, feeling as it rose and fell with his breath, “Well, how are you feeling now?”

“Better, but lesser. Things can get better before they get worse. Everyone always says like a calm before the second half of the storm. In some ways that makes the oncoming pain not seem as bad, but in other ways it makes it seem worse, like I won’t be as ready for it.”

“If you wanted me to, I could try easing the pain a bit.”

He shook his head slightly, “No, I can handle it. You’ll need all the energy you can muster to get out of here. Just keep your hand right there. It feels better. Right. I think it might always have belonged there. You are like the whole troops caretaker. But… always me more.”

“Yeah.”

“I was always a rambunctious little shit.”

“Yeah.”

“The fact that I didn’t get my head lopped off years ago is probably a stroke of luck. More the debt to the universe piles up, though, the more that luck runs dry and you’ve got nothing to protect you. Nothing more than a loving friend.”

Cyrus said nothing, he examined every inch of Dutch’s body, still studying, wondering.

“From down here, you look so much more powerful. I used to think I was the stronger one. The brash and bold. But… strength, eh. Not much at the face of demise. You were the real fittest to survive. The smaller target. The larger mind.”

“You do a wonderful job.”

“Eh, I did my best. Better than a lot of sick and misguided people. Worse than a lot of beautiful and good people. Alright enough to not feel guilty. In that sense, at least.”

Dutch kept his gaze mostly at the ceiling, but every now and then he would move his eyes to Cyrus and stare for a moment before they went back forward. He never tilted his head.

“I’ve seen a lot of death. Lots of it in books and stuff, too. Death is a lot like an evolving myth, itself. Everyone spreads these stories about what it is like, these guesses and such. Even people who almost died try to tell people how it feels and spread this story. But… do any of them really know? I mean, could any of them really know unless they truly died? Death doesn’t happen until the brain is dead. Gone. Mush. No one can come back from that, either. So, no one knows. Nothing but what they feel beforehand. And on that,” He let out a small cough, “On that, I hear nothing but people saying that they feel… content. More and more so the closer that they get to the edge. That’s funny.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t feel it,” He started tearing up, his words turning into whimpers, “I’m just sad. I don’t want to die.”

Cyrus hung his head low, “We can figure this out. Stop worrying.”

“But… I can’t move my body anymore. It’s just… gone.”

“It’s right here. Feel my hand. That’s your stomach.”

“I feel your hand, but nothing’s there. It touches nothing. The body’s drained away.”

Cyrus darted his vision away and tried not to tear up as well.

“Normal death is a lot like this, too, just faster. If you think about it, from all I’ve seen, death does this thing where it takes away every piece of you. With this stuff, this spell, it’s like these little bits that make up who I am are being shaved off, they’re falling though. And when the last bit is gone, I’m out of time. It remind me of. Of a… of. Of. An…” He closed his eyes, settling his thoughts, “An hourglass. Yeah, that. A hourglass, where the sand slowly pours from the top to the bottom. From life to death. Grain by grain. I’m… I’m those. Those grains. And every bit is taking its time, but soon it’ll all be out, and I’ll be gone.”

“Stop talking like that. You can still try to hold on. You can still try to grab onto yourself and persevere. It’s just determination, right? People put there hands in fire and feel nothing because of their determination. You can push through it all, if you try.”

“Trying hurts. Being hurts. The spell actively is pushing for me to stop being. Designed to make me… stop.”

“Don’t let it get to you. You can fight if you just don’t quit. Open your eyes.”

“No… I don’t need to. It would hurt too much. I can still see you. Right inside here, inside my head. I always see you when I close my eyes, whether I want to or not. Heheh,” He snickered.

“Dutch…”

“Oh, don’t worry. Most of the time it’s good that I see you. Sometimes you can be a real nagging Nelly like right now, but hey, I get it. I’m stupid. I deserve it most of the time. I know you’re just trying to make things better. Tryin’… to… make. Make things seem less. Less bad than they are. They’re pretty bad, and that can be scary.”

“I’m here for you,” He moved his head close to his friend’s.

“And I know that you’re sad. Very. Very… sad. I know. I’m sad too. Crying my eyes out…”

“You stopped crying already, Dutch.”

Dutch continued talking, “But… I guess in a little way I’m lucky, I won’t have to deal with being sad much longer, best case scenario. If not, then there’s no way of stopping it anyways. Knowing me I’d deserve it. But. But, uh. But… oh, I was saying… I know that even if I get to escape being sad, that you’re gonna have to deal with it. You’re gonna have to be sad when. When I’m gone. Yeah. That sucks. I’m sorry. I know that’s why you’re trying to hurt.”

“Help.”

“Yeah. Help.”

Cyrus bent over and wrapped around Dutch, hugging him tightly, “I’m so sorry that I couldn’t be better.”

“Oh. Oh shush. It was all me. Me and my ego, screaming at that jerk like I was gonna change his mind. I should’ve been more prepared. We know his power. But… shoulda… shoulda… coulda.. Buddha. All in the past now. You can go past all this. You can be happy even after I’m gone. You’re a smart, cute guy who's gonna change the world for the better. I know that.”

“I don’t know what I would do, without you.”

“Anything and everything. You’re divine. I’m a bitch. Simple math, I’m a thorn in your side. You’re a rose bud. Pretty little thing, with this radiance. An authority. A… right to be better than all of us. You’re so much better than me.”

“You were everything I wasn’t…”

“And that’s a good thing. I mean… look at me. I’m dying. Almost there, too, I think. While I still have any feeling left, you should be holding me.”

Cyrus winced and hugged tighter.

“I would say you can kiss me, but my lips… I don’t know if there still feeling. Shame. Your lips are pretty nice,” He chuckled, “Sorry again for making jokes. So easy when you’ve got nothing else to do with the rest of your life.”

“I’m going to miss you.”

“It’s weird, I feel, the order in which all my parts are. All my pieces are. My gears are… stopping. The order. It’s weird. Like, what determines it? Is it random? What is the last grain to drip from the hourglass? Is it me, that last grain, or am I everything? I… even if I could come back, I know everything else would be gone. Might mean I’m a husk of my former self. I mean, no good as a fighter if my body doesn’t work. If I can’t stand on my own two feet. Feel the grass. The breeze. The warmth of another. These things, I think. These things, I think, are a part of me, too. But I still feel like I’m here, also. I’m still here. So… maybe? Maybe the last grain is the most of who I am… maybe. Maybe the other grains are just tools to help my one grain experience the world. But why does that grain fall last? To give me time? Is Cochlea Mortem secretly a blessing? Death is awful… but… how many deaths guarantee a final testimony? As long as someone is here to listen.”

“I’m always here to listen.”

Dutch’s head bean tilting to the right, slightly, slowing falling towards the floor.

Cyrus tried to feel his friend as best as he could, hold on to every second that remained. “You’re smarter than anyone ever gave you credit for,” He said.

There wasn’t a response. Just the rise and fall of his breath that had been growing more dull as the conversation carried on. Cyrus shook his friend gently to no avail. “Dutch?”

After another few moments of silence Dutch chuckled, “I see. Playing quiet with me now, huh.”

“I’m right here, Dutch.”

“Don’t worry, I get it. It’s getting sad, hard for ya to come up with ann word. I’m gutting cloos new, I thn.”

“What?”

He started slurring his words more, “Bu, you dun ned ta be sad, Cyren.”

Cyrus moved over to his friend’s face and slapped the side of it, “C’mon, Dutch, don’t do this to me. Please...”

“I wan yu ta new smm, cyr… I stul loo ya.”

Cyrus’ breathing became sporadic as he leaned close to Dutch’s ear and desperately spoke in a hushed whimper, “I love you, Dutch. And even after all these months, I forgive you. I always forgave you, you stupid try-hard. Please hear that. You don’t need to respond, but please hear that.”

Dutch let nothing else out but faint grumbles and groans as his breathing slowed down until he his didn’t rise at all and all the subtle movement of his body winded down to nothing.

“I’m sorry.”

Everything seemed to stop, like a final little leaf that floats to the dirt and leaves the tree barren. Cyrus held close to his friend and hugged him tight, but his friend was gone.

[ronaldmrashid]

Being A Landlord Tests My Faith In Humanity

I’ll never forget what James Carville, Bill Clinton’s lead strategist said to us at our high school commencement, “Always leave a place better than you found it.” His words have made me a more thoughtful person – always trying to pay for the bill, cleaning up after others long after a high school tennis match is over at a public park, and giving consulting clients more time without charging more.

The problem with being a thoughtful person is that unthoughtful people can drive you NUTS. If you want to save yourself from a lot of agitation, I suggest being a selfish person who only thinks about yourself. You won’t go very far in life because nobody will want to help you or do business with you. But at least you’ll be impervious to the negative affects of the selfishness of others!

For the past two years, I’ve had five tenants in my Marina single family house. They seemed like nice enough guys with nice enough jobs to pay the nice enough rent. There was just one problem. They didn’t give a FLYING F*CK about my property or the terms of the lease!

I’m writing this post to warn all of you folks who are considering being landlords that bad things can happen that will test your sanity. Anybody who believes that achieving financial independence early doesn’t take a lot of sacrifice is fooling themselves!

The other reason why I’m writing this post is to encourage myself to STOP trying to buy more physical property. I put in a all cash bid this week for $100,000 over asking for a house with ocean views. I lost because there were 10 other offers and the house was purposefully underpriced. Perhaps this post will help fight my property accumulation addiction!

My Pain In The Ass Tenants

If you haven’t figured it out by now, renting your house to five guys usually equals DISASTER, especially if all the guys were in a fraternity. I knew this when we agreed to the lease, but I also secretly hoped I wouldn’t find blowup dolls, pong tables, and kegs in the house (found them all in the first year!). Hope is a funny thing that makes people go against their best judgment.

Of course my good neighbors texted me to tell me whenever they threw parties way past curfew. Of course I also got notifications when they’d run across my neighbors’ roofs, drunk. If there was a San Francisco Tenant Blacklist, half of them would be on the list for sure.

The First Thoughtless Situation

Out of the 24 months they rented my house, their rent was late EIGHT times. Per the lease, any rent paid after the 4th day is considered late and subject to a $250 per day fine.

The first late payment, I wasn’t sweating it. I wasn’t worried about the second late payment either. But when the third late payment rolled around, I had a heart-to-heart conversation with the master tenant to start being more responsible and considerate since I had my own expenses associated with the house I had to pay every month. He agreed, apologized, and promised not to be late again.

Five months passed and once again they were late again. I asked him what was up, and he told me that his bank had some type of error. Uh huh. I knew he was lying, but I once again let it slide because the rent showed up a day later. Once again, I was too nice to enforce the $250/day penalty.

Then on July 4th weekend last year their rent payment was late again. This time, none of the tenants could get back to me about where the money was because they were all traveling. They finally paid the rent on the 10th, six days past the deadline. I was trying to find someway to get it through to the master tenant’s head that he was being completely irresponsible. So I used this analogy:

Imagine if your employer didn’t pay you on time every two weeks. Imagine if they decided to pay you whenever they felt like it? How would you feel? Because that is how I feel every time you’re late.

Once again, he nodded his head, apologized, and agreed to be more diligent. I forgave him again because I never felt he and the crew would not pay. I just felt they were completely thoughtless.

After the 8th late payment, I had a BRILLIANT idea. I told the master tenant, “Hey man, I know you’re having a tough time paying rent on time because you have to collect rent from four other guys, make sure everything clears, and then pay me at the bank. It sucks you can’t just automatically wire transfer the $9,000 each month. So here’s a solution! How about you cut me a written check and send it in the mail by the first of each month. I’ll wait until the 5th of each month before depositing it so that you’ve got enough money. This way, I’ll feel better knowing that at least I have a check in hand to deposit.”

He told me this was a fine idea, but never followed through. He proceeded to just go to my bank and deposit a check or cash into my account. It wasn’t the solution I wanted, but at least I was getting paid. Then just recently, they finally gave me their 31 day move-out notice, HOORAY!

One tenant needed to save money so he moved back home with his parents. Another tenant’s father bought him a one bedroom condo and will rent out his living room to one of the housemates. I’m not sure about the other two.

The Second Thoughtless Situation

Part of the lease states to maintain the yard and return it in the condition it was originally in. Maintaining the yard meant not letting the yard get overgrown with weeds, regularly watering the fruit trees, and not using it like a dumpster. I spent about $2,500 making the yard look nice a couple years before they moved in. They agreed to hire a gardner to maintain the yard twice a month.

Of course, they did no such thing. Here’s a picture of the yard during their time there.

Thanks guys for littering beer cans, breaking my bench, and letting the yard get overgrown!

They promised to get a gardener to make the yard look good again. But of course, the gardener never showed up four days before they planned to move out. Given they were consistently unreliable, I told them I’d do some leg work to make the yard look good again with my guy Luis, who ended up landscaping the back and front yard at my other single family home.

The tenants said OK. But then balked when I came back with the labor only price of $1,000. Then I told them if they were not willing to pay they should go ahead and do the work themselves, and they finally acquiesced.

After spending $1,400 (including materials) and two days completely overhauling the yard, a funny thing happened. As I was proudly showing the backyard to a leasing agent, I almost stepped in a pile of dog sh*t!

One of the tenants once again didn’t give a sh*t and decided after all that time and money spent, they’d bring a dog into the backyard, let him go #2, and just leave it there. Don’t you just LOVE it when dog owners let their dogs sh*t all over the sidewalk and never clean up after them? It’s infuriating. If you see a dog owner do such a thing, tell them to pick it up with their hands and dump it in their own house.

One tenant fessed up, “Sorry Sam, my girlfriend brought her dog to the house via the garage the other night for probably 5-10 minutes. I had no idea that happened, but my apologies. If not already cleaned up I will do it personally.”

Unbelievable.

The Third Thoughtless Situation

Two weeks before their move out date, I told the tenants to start getting rid of trash asap because the trash man would not pick up tons of extra trash that wouldn’t fit in the bins on their move out date. He might pick up one or two extra bags if he was in a good mood, but not a massive pile of trash.

My tenants ignored me.

Upon the final walk through, they were already running 1.5 hours late trying to get things out of the house. When I saw the mounds of trash on the side walk, I told them there was less than a 10% chance all of their trash would be picked up the next day. I told them to take some trash with them. They refused.

I told them to come back later that evening to get rid of at least some of the extra trash. Leaving so much trash out is a target for human scavengers and raccoons.

They refused. Why? Because I made the cardinal mistake of giving back their deposit. I took 9% off of the $17,000 on top of the $800 deducted for the yard work. Lesson learned: Landlords, wait several days before returning the deposit! You have the power.

Five extra bags of trash and overflowing bins will not all be picked up by the trash man. But my tenants couldn’t give a f*ck.

They added even more trash on the sidewalk the night before. I told them there was no way the trash would be picked up.

So guess what happened the very next morning when I came by to meet my floor refinishing guy and some prospective realtors?

Nothing! All the trash was still there and exploding on the sidewalk. I got another text message from my neighbor with this picture:

I couldn’t believe it. I texted the tenants angrily to get their asses over there to pick up the trash. And in the meantime, because I was so embarrassed with people coming over, I picked up the trash around the trash can.

Of course they didn’t come over. They apologized, and called 1-800-JUNK to pick everything up 2.5 hours after I shot them the picture.

All I Could Do Was Laugh

The way I get through stressful landlord moments is by reminding myself that everything is fixable with time and money. Then I remind myself I have a nice big deposit. If I didn’t cut them their deposit before the trash explosion, I would have felt less stressed. Lesson learned.

All I could do was laugh at the situation. I texted the picture to the realtors before they came and jokingly asked, “will this show well?”

I can unequivocally say this has been my worst landlord experience over the past 12 years. But I’m stronger for this experience. I will do my best never to rent to 4 or 5 guys anymore. Further, I absolutely will not buy another physical property for rental income. Every time I have an itch to buy physical real estate, I will refer back to this post to keep myself in check.

I’m all about simplicity now. Two rental properties plus a vacation property is the maximum I can handle. All new money that I originally planned to use for physical real estate will now go towards buying municipal bonds, REITs and real estate crowdfunded projects outside of San Francisco. A 4% – 12% potential annual gain with no tenants to deal with is good enough for me!

I’m too old for being a hands on landlord anymore. Before I retired in 2012, I thought real estate would pay for my living expenses happily ever after. Thank goodness for online income instead. I’m at the point where I’d rather just keep my house empty like a shady foreigner trying to park illicit money and forgo any rental income. I may even want to sell the rental house, but the 5% commission (~$130,000+) plus $20,000 in transfer taxes keeps me holding tight.

Any landlords out there have horrendous experiences they’d like to share? I need to hear them so I can feel better about myself! 

from http://www.financialsamurai.com/being-a-landlord-tests-my-faith-in-humanity/