#i cannot afford to see it again but i am thinking of getting a payday loan and / or selling my body on the streets

[bringbackthepornbots]

the other day spouse & i went out to watch Alien (1979) in theatres for its rerelease, and in addition to such useful thoughts as "this is the only filmset i've ever seen that gives an impression of absolute grime while everything looks perfectly clean" and "Ripley Scott decided to simply not light his film and I have spent my life trying to catch the same effect in my writing. I am in Hell"

-- in the middle of all of this, i leaned over to whisper "this film is just Moby-Dick in space"

and I STAND BY THAT QUIP

[capricornus-rex]

Stronger Than Blood (8)

Chapter 8: Bound by Fate or by Blood? | Cal Kestis x Reader

Requested by Anon

Summary: Meeting another Force-sensitive was one thing, but having them related to one of the most formidable known duelers was a whole other story to tell. While being stranded in another planet after barely escaping the Haxion Brood, Cal crosses paths with someone who’s at a crossroads with their own identity and lineage.

Also tagging @ayamenimthiriel​

Also posted in AO3

Tags: Force-User! Reader, Force-Sensitive Reader, Sith-Related! Reader

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 | Previous: Part 7 | Next: Part 9 | Masterlist

8 of ?

Apparently, the only reinforcement they needed was the Purge Trooper. His kind was specifically made for Jedi—but you were an exception.

“You’re no Jedi,” the trooper points out, brandishing his twin batons. He points one at you. “But the Emperor says you’re a prize!”

Your weapon’s caliber is a bar below his batons, but that didn’t falter your will. Positioning yourself in a defensive stance with your techstaff in front of you, buckling your knees and keeping your grip firm.

“Ha! Don’t make me laugh, kid!” the Purge Trooper sniggered.

“I wasn’t trying to!”

Slightly impressed by your determination, he lunged towards you in a deadly nimbleness, you barely afforded a second to react. Deflecting him in the last minute resulted in a flimsy block that you leaned backwards, accepting all his weight onto you. With little strength you could gather, you pushed him away so you could reset your stance.

Finally, you were able to trade strikes with this black-armored Purge Trooper; though, as much as you hate to admit it, he was more skilled than you were. Granted, he’s probably received top-notch quality his whole life, while you only survived and learned through street and cantina brawls.

I can’t shake him… He’s trying to tire me out!

Meanwhile, the Stormtroopers who received the radio call saying that you were spotted in the caves was a red herring. Cal almost wondered if this was an elaborate trap to separate the two of you. Now he’s stuck with facing off the Stormtroopers stationed there before getting to you.

The comms gauntlet of the Stormtrooper he just downed beeped, in a miraculous convenience, and the voice of another trooper fizzled through the reception.

“Insurgent found in the village. Purge Trooper RF-4756 already engaging her.” The voice calmly reported, indicating that he’s only standing by and watching the fight ensue.

“Gotcha!” Cal exclaimed under his breath and headed for the elevator that leads out to closest point to the village.

Unfortunately, he was hindered by the creatures and troopers—who were on high alert—who spotted him in the caves. He tried to make quick work of them, just so he wouldn’t have the stress of being tailed by enemies—especially troopers—when they’re headed to one common destination. But the Stormtroopers accompanied by a single, lance-wielding Purge Trooper, held Cal back from reaching you.

In his burst of adrenaline, he struck his fist against the soil, sending off an energy wave of Force against his surrounding enemies and disorienting them. Before they could stand up, Cal cut them down and rushed for the elevator, avoiding the Jotaz and the other creatures that stood in his way to the lift.

“I don’t have time for this!” he grumbled, evading the charging Phillak and immediately cut down the Scazz as he ran past it.

The elevator hummed and rumbled when Cal’s boot weighted against the pressure plate. The lift was slow, but he kept jostling himself, antsy and impatient—it took a single beep from BD-1, apparently asking if you could be alright, to calm him down.

“I hope she is,”

The Purge Trooper wasn’t having any of it today, although he made it seem like a game. You scarcely made a dent on him, he continuously deflected your strikes and forcefully hammered his batons against both ends of your staff. For a body so slender, the amount of strength he puts on his attacks was staggering.

“Good night!” he snarled and tossed out a stasis bomb to your way.

You were too late to remove yourself out of its blast radius. You’re caught in the net—the static current numbed your muscles as they wrapped around your calves like vines until it crawled all the way up to your body, further halting the movement of your torso and then arms and eventually your neck.

You watched your opponent walk over the static field unaffected, he pommeled you across the cheekbone, knocking you out while you’re immobilized. He nudged your stomach with the tip of his boot. Your fingers were slightly twitching, but he saw you’re out cold. He presses a single button on his gauntlet.

“I’ve apprehended the Emperor’s prize,” he reported. “Requesting transport shuttle.”

“Confirmed, RF-4756. Please indicate area coordinates.”

A transport shuttle shortly arrived to the planet, hovering by the cliffside of the village’s edge. The Purge Trooper scooped you up, carrying you like a sack. From the distance, Cal heard the engine of a ship from his current location; he followed the general direction of the gray ship he spotted. He immediately knew where it’s headed, but he arrived too little too late.

“NO!! [Y/N]!!”

“Jedi! Over there!”

A row of Stormtroopers barred him again. Cal’s finding it quite vexing to find enemies standing in his way when things are most dire. He spotted the transport by the cliff, he saw your unconscious body carried over the Purge Trooper’s shoulders as he enters the ship.

“NO!!”

He quickly slowed down the windmill to cross over the gap, but the transport ship was already hovering away from the edge, the gap became more and more impassable as it stretched. Cal watched the ship gain altitude, he immediately went through the shortcut leading back to the Mantis on the landing pad.

“Cere!” he called through the commlink. “They’ve taken [y/n]! Do you see the transport ship?!”

“Yes, I see it!” Cere replied, her barking orders bled through Cal’s commlink. “Captain, prepare for take off! I’ll see if I can make a backdoor to their communications. Hurry back!”

“Already am!”

Meanwhile, in the ship where you’re held captive, the Purge Trooper ordered the pilots to set a course for Mustafar.

“I’m getting the payday of a lifetime!” the Purge Trooper boasted.

“Is it the Jedi?” one of the pilots dared asking.

“No, it’s the other one,”

The two pilots exchanged glances, despite their nearly-opaque helmet visors, each one could immediately tell which “other one” the trooper was referring to. Neither of them said a word, as much as they wanted to, and charted the course to the volcanic planet.

The Purge Trooper RF-4756, overly proud of himself and excited to show off his achievement, slumped on the other chair behind the pilot’s seat. Not bothering to understand what flashing symbols meant on the secondary dashboard screens, he rested his feet over them, leaned back against the seat—quite far enough to make the backrest bend—and cushioned his head with his hands.

——————————————————–

It has probably been hours since you were out cold.

You wake up to find yourself in a prison cell, you’re settled on a bed; not exactly queen-sized as you had hoped—much to your disappointment—it was only a big slab of duraplast painted black, big enough to fit an adult individual. Quite spacious for a single prisoner, though.

“One star for the room quality,” you grumbled sarcastically as you massaged your calves, the static still felt fresh hours later.

You surveyed the entire room—black metal walls with panels for the light to pass through, a sturdy-looking blast door, and of course, the miserable excuse of a bed.

There were no cuffs around your ankles or wrists, expecting that you were, but you supposed that they put all of their faith with the architecture of this cell. The hums that spoke through the wall was stale and inorganic, metal clattered from the water that dripped from the open pipes was so rhythmic that it helped you relax. You decided to stand and walk off the remaining numbness in your legs, you slowly stalked towards the door—feeling the presence of the pair of guards standing in the other side.

You slowly angled your head so your ear faces the door and eavesdropped on the banter borne of their boredom in the silence of the cell block.

“So, let me get this straight: this prisoner can use the Force… but isn’t a Jedi? I thought only Jedi can do that kind of stuff!”

“Yeah well, I don’t understand it either—and frankly, I don’t plan to. I heard from the report she didn’t have their kind of weapon, she only used a staff of some sort—looks hand-made.”

“But for someone that isn’t Jedi, the price on her head is kinda steep, don’t ya think?”

“Yeah, I heard that it’s way above the pay grade. I’m guessing the pay grade of an admiral times five,”

“Wha—!? That IS higher than anybody’s rates! That’s ridiculous! What’s so special about her, anyway?”

The indifferent Stormtrooper incoherently grumbled, you wagered he simply shrugged his shoulders just for this conversation to end. Their banter may be short, but you think you’ve known enough. Shortly after, you felt another presence enter the prison block—it was heavy and foreboding—you had secondhand anxiety from the Stormtroopers once they’re in the presence of the third one.

“L-Lord Vader!” the Stormtrooper, the perky and nonchalant one, shuddered upon addressing his boss.

You backed away from the door, you felt your stomach drop to your feet when the door opened and revealed a lumbering beast of an entity clad in full black armor.

The eyes of his helmet were like the sockets of an empty skull, gleaming a blood-red tinge that afflicted indescribable horror to those who laid eyes on him.

Your hands trembled uncontrollably, not even clenching your fists helped in stopping the shaking; your heart rapidly pounded under sheer stress. As much as you badly wanted to, you cannot take your eyes off of this towering man. You clumsily fell back to the slab, the strength on your feet now unfound as he entered your cell. The gloss over the curve of his helmet shone under the light panels of the room.

“So, you are the prize the Emperor so badly desired,” the baritone that rumbled through Darth Vader’s helmet was frightening enough to get your tongue.

“Dooku’s way overdue, I shouldn’t be of any value to your master anymore!” your voice shuddered as you spat back.

Vader tilted his head upon the mention of that name. He thought he had buried the memory of the name and its owner within the deep recesses of his mind. However, it was neither a long time ago nor was it recent, but the familiarity serves.

“I don’t think so,” Lord Vader hummed. “When your uncle failed to deliver, the Emperor was most displeased with his efficiency—or lack thereof. You are still his blood, we will sharpen those invaluable powers of yours.”

“DO NOT ASSOCIATE ME WITH HIM!! I AM OF NOT OF HIS BLOOD!!!”

The instinctive anger gave you sudden burst of strength to stand up, protesting against Darth Vader’s statement of your lineage. He felt the wave of energy nudge his balance, but he held ground. Rather than be intimidated, he was impressed at how you went from a shying violet to a vessel flaring with rage.

“Yes,” he purred. “Strong are you with the Dark Side. Your hate and anger fuels you, it makes you more powerful than your weak, old man of an uncle could ever be.”

“He killed my mother…” the words involuntarily went past your lips. From that, Darth Vader understood the root of the pent-up, impulsive wrath that claws its way out of your system. “You’ll never get anything out of me!”

“We shall see.”

Not needing a response, he turned tail and you watched him exit your cell; the billowing of his cape almost reminded you of Count Dooku—the way he marched away from your house upon the demand of your mother. You felt yourself melting to the floor, you couldn’t believe that you had the gall to talk back to such a man of power. You weakly crawled back onto the slab, curled into a fetal position and struggled to rest and calm down—your hope and optimism fluctuating.

He probably hates me now… you sulked in your mind, drawing invisible lines on the slab as you tried to rest.

“No one’s coming… I’m going to die here,” you resigned with a dejected sigh.

You searched for the necklace she had given you during her final moments. You fished out the pendant under your shirt, gazing at the tiny cracks that it’s gotten over time, the gem had already chipped as well. Your thumb ran across the face of the jewel, leaving a blurred smear of your thumbmark over its surface.

“Am I going to see you now, Mom?” you murmured and nuzzled it to your cheek as you closed your hopeless eyes.

Little did you know that Cal and the crew were on their way to Mustafar, after struggling to tail the transport ship that carried you out of Zeffo and splicing their comms at a safe distance. Cere managed to hack through their communications and eavesdrop on the passengers’ banter.

Greez expressively objected the idea, not because he didn’t want to rescue you, but because being in the proximity of Imperials in a foreboding backdrop comprised of a black castle over a river of lava wasn’t exactly his ideal place. Nevertheless, he docked the Mantis close by the castle; with the help of Cere’s expert splicing, she had cloaked the ship with an Imperial signature so they stay incognito under the scanners for as long as she can keep it that way.

“I’ll bust out [y/n] and we’re out of here,”

“Keep your line open then,” Cere advised.

“Always,”

Cal stepped out of the Mantis and searched for an entrance into the narrow pyramid. Perhaps the only way through were the exterior ventilation shafts. After tearing out the grate, he crawled through the vent and followed his instincts, when he got to the point where he can stand up from the crawlspace, he cautiously tiptoed over the grates that served as his floor. He held his breath throughout the ordeal, careful not to make a sound and alert the clueless Stormtroopers beneath his boots, he strained his eyes through the holes of the grate—watching the enemy and his step at the same time. When he reached the end of the vent, he carefully undid the clamps of the vent door.

“Oh, thank the Force,” he sighed with overwhelming relief when he discovered that the end of the tunnel was an empty corridor.

He daintily refitted the grate back to the wall. He prowled through the corridor, hugging the wall in case he comes in the way of Stormtroopers patrolling the area. Cal kept worrying over how you’re holding up right now, where you are, or what they’re doing to you; he continued on while retaining his caution and stealth.

“Cal, are you there?”

“Yeah, Cere, just got myself into the fortress itself,”

“I managed to fish out the coordinates of their prison block, I’m sending it to you now,”

BD-1’s tiny satellite popped out of its designated hatch on his head, receiving Cere’s info that she’s sending from the Mantis; apparently, she had access to certain databases while retaining an Imperial radar signature. When the upload was complete, BD-1 promptly flashed the holomap into the space of the nook he and Cal are hiding in.

“The wonders of Cere,” Cal chuckled to himself as he glanced at the map. “Okay, that ought to be the cell block. Come on, let’s go get her.”

“Booo-woo!!”

Following the map, Cal stalked through the corridors, avoiding the areas where the count of Stormtrooper is dense and avoiding the need to draw out his lightsaber, as it would raise the castle on high alert, and the owner—which he could safely guess is more powerful than an Inquisitor—would send swarm upon swarm of Stormtroopers in his way.

He found the lobby of the prison block, but the bridge was a computer-operated type, so BD-1 did his magic on slicing it with his scomp link. In the process, the little droid stole data of a report that you were scheduled to be brought to an Imperial torture chair. After slicing the computer, he relayed the data to Cal.

“They’re gonna make her into one of them…” Cal mumbled. “We can’t let that happen!”

“Trill, beee! Woop-boo!”

“That’s very brave of you, BD-1!”

The boy and the bot marched over the bridge once it’s connected both platforms. In the second foyer where the door that actually leads the prison itself, Cal spotted your things sitting over the top of the computer terminal, obviously confiscated upon your incarceration. He swiped them and examined your staff, apparently none of the Stormtroopers have figured out how your weapon works, much to their carelessness, they simply left it partially retracted; but not for him—who’s lived his life over scrapping and making handiworks like these in his spare time back in Bracca.

Recalling how you used the weapon in Nalima, he searched for the buttons that triggered the mechanism to unfold and then retract the staff’s heads on both sides. It worked. He clipped it next his saber hanging by his belt and slung over your small bag across his chest.

The wide blast door hissed open, revealing the cell block’s interior. There were floors upon floors of cells, each tier was guarded by two or three Stormtroopers. On ground level, at its center, was the main control terminal; deactivating that would cause a domino effect of opening all the cell doors at once. There is only one problem: the Stormtroopers.

“Huh? I-It’s the Jedi!”

One hand signal from the commander with the red pauldron and all Stormtroopers aimed at the redheaded Jedi standing at the door. Igniting his dual-ended sabers, Cal deflected and returned every single ballistic rod of plasma fired at him. When he had cut down their numbers into a half at a staggering pace, the remaining Stormtroopers had already ordered the alarm.

“That’s not good!” Cal exclaimed.

He finished off the remaining Stormtroopers and ran towards the main terminal. Knowing that he couldn’t undo the alarm, he had to find you fast.

In your cell, your head jerked up when red light pooled around your entire cell, the blaring alarm fully woke you up while attempting to regain your energy while locked up. You didn’t understand why the alarm was off, you peeked through the window of the door—which was only a rectangle enough for your eyes to fit—and saw hordes of Stormtroopers spilling from both sides.

You didn’t understand what’s happening, until you heard the Stormtroopers’ dying groans as you heard a familiar noise. You sat up from your slab bed and watched the door whizz open, only this time, it was Cal standing at the other side.

“Cal?”

“Come on, we’re getting out of here!”

There was obviously no time for questions. Both of you have to move fast.

“Oh, by the way,” he unbuckled your staff from his belt and tossed it to you. “You’re gonna need this!”

It felt great to have your beloved techstaff in your hands again. You drew it to its full length, still in mint condition, a proud smile curled along the line of your lips. You sorely missed it.

You followed Cal out of your cell. He took the lead and you stayed close.

[maryellencarter]

So for about ten days now I've been playing around with the budgeting app Mint (along with a Google Sheets yearly budget template and a lot of manual work with a calculator, a calendar, and a succession of blank Google Docs because that's just the kind of person I am), and so obviously I have some Thoughts.

* I picked Mint because it's the budgeting app all the financial reviewers talk about, because it's run by Intuit who also own TurboTax so I knew their security and interface would be good, and because it does not come with built-in shaming over any of your ~unnecessary~ purchases.

* Mint is a free app which makes its money by offering you sponsored ads for financial products it thinks you might like, and getting paid by the advertisers when you accept one of the ads. The most intrusive location for these ads is on your dashboard, feed, whatever you want to call it, where the ad tile is required to be the third tile down and cannot be shuffled to the bottom or turned off.

* (There is also a desktop browser version, Mint.com. I have poked it very slightly but couldn't get it to do anything useful. More on that later. I don't remember noticing how the ads are arranged there.)

* The app's general design is very sleek and intuitive, what I'd expect from the parent company of QuickBooks and TurboTax. Other than the intrusive ad tile, it lets you rearrange everything however you want.

* Mint is designed around importing transactions from your bank account for you to do budgetary stuff at, so obviously security is really important, which gives Intuit an edge up on the competition because I'm already used to trusting them with my tax returns. It only seems to sync new transactions during banking hours, which for someone like me who does most of their shopping on Sunday is kind of frustrating. It also won't let you edit or recategorize a transaction till it's finished "processing" a day or two down the line. I don't know if these pitfalls are common to all budget apps but it would probably make sense if they are.

* One thing Mint does that's incredibly handy for me is it lets you put all your recurring bills in one place and even sync them with your phone calendar. I actually had to turn off the phone calendar sync because it was alerting me constantly on the day before payday when I couldn't do anything about the bill that was due on payday, but if you can find the setting to change the alert frequency it might be useful. And having a nice chronological list of what the fuck is due when, is extremely helpful to my brain, because previously I was trying to remember everything in my head and I kept losing bills.

* Going down my tiles as I have them sorted in the app, I don't have much to say about that list of transactions itself, except that you can recategorize them and split them into different categories -- which is handy if the rent included $105 late fees which you don't want befuckening your future averages, or if you bought groceries and also a barbecue lighter at Walmart, to take two recent examples.

* You cannot, unfortunately, rename or edit categories. On desktop only, you can supposedly add categories, but you cannot then use those categories in any of Mint's other functions, which really defeats the purpose. And their ideas of what categories you might need are pretty... idiosyncratic, not to say WASPy, so e.g. I'm currently categorizing Patreon income under "Reimbursement" because the other options were things like "Investment Income" and "Returned Purchase". And transfers to my savings account can either be "Credit Card Payment" or "Transfer for Cash Spending".

* (I suppose I could put my savings under "Investment: Deposit" or something similarly grandiose, but that seems like... a lot for the 31 cents rounded up from getting a pizza at Little Caesars.)

* Anyways. So then, after the obligatory ad tile, comes a nice colorful pie chart of my spending for the month, which I can open up and tab through to look at all the categories. I saw one finance blogger saying you should use the Miscellaneous category for some things rather than getting too granular, but I like seeing the little individual entries for my haircut and my cloth mask and my pharmacy copay. (That last one's going to be a more substantial pie slice now that I can actually afford to start taking most of my meds again. Turns out my prescription for diabetic test strips expired, though, so I have to get ahold of my doctor and get a new one sent over, and I'm looking skeptically at the copays. :P I've been ignoring my diabetes since January, it can wait a little longer till I'm financially caught up from COVID.)

* I can see list-style breakdowns by category and merchant, too. This is one of the few places in the mobile app that my income shows up, other than the actual paycheck transactions. The desktop version has some more places to budget projected income, but the handling is clunky as hell.

* Next up is the tile where I've been spending a lot of my time, Budgets. This is your basic "envelope method" where you create, say, a budget for haircuts and another one for groceries. Each budget has to be for one of Mint's pre-created categories, and when you have a spending transaction in that category, it puts the expense against that Budget. The desktop version has you also creating a line item for expected income in Budgets, and then becoming stroppy when you attempt to adjust parts in the wrong order, so I prefer the app which simply tells you e.g. that you have spent $900 of an allocated $1000 with an airy unconcern for whether the $1000 has arrived in your bank account yet.

* My single biggest frustration with Mint is that you cannot create Budgets based on user-created categories, nor can you delete, rename, or even collapse categories in the list. So if I go to create a new Budget for, say, "Housewares" to account for the $1 barbecue lighter I finally bought (I have large hands and a tall jar candle that has burned down farther than I can reach, okay, it was a necessity), then I'm stuck scrolling all the way up and down past "Investment: Capital Gains" and "Kids: Child Support" before finally settling on "Home Supplies" because it doesn't really seem like a "Home Furnishings".

* After Budgets comes Accounts, which just shows me my current net worth across all my accounts. I actually unlinked my savings account because it was confusing the hell out of me to see a 31-cent transfer out of checking paired with the same 31-cent transfer into savings, so this doesn't show me anything I can't get through my bank app, but if I had current credit card debt or non-retirement investment accounts it might be more useful.

* (I have not linked my 401(k) to Mint. I haven't even figured out how to get into my 401(k), either before or after it transferred to a different handler a couple months back. I feel like those are problems for a later time than "okay how much groceries can I buy and still pay the rent".)

* On the desktop version of Mint, you can also put things like your car in under your net worth as Property. I tried that, found that I both did not believe their Kelly Blue Book valuation at all (it didn't have any option to take into account "was totaled two years ago and looks it but still mostly runs") and that I find it extremely stressful to have non-liquid property listed as part of my net worth. Interesting to know. You learn all sorts of shit about yourself when you try to manage money.

* Next there's a tile that attempts to break down my "cash flow" by month. It doesn't seem to have noticed the Paypal transfers on which I was largely subsisting for the three months it was able to pull from my bank account, even though they show up fine in Transactions, so it's deeply confused about whether my cash flow is Healthy or Unhealthy. For now, with my acquisition of a second paycheck for August, it seems to have settled on Healthy. I might turn that tile off though. It doesn't really... offer much, I guess?

* I have turned off the tile that shows me my free credit score. That's a problem for a much later me. Right now I have more urgent problems, like catching up on my deferred car insurance and my deferred cell phone bill and my deferred healthcare deductions.

* You also can't turn off the tile for the Mint "Life Blog" or the one asking you to rate the app, but at least they sit at the bottom of the app as you scroll down.

* The desktop version also has an entire segment not found in the app, for "Goals", where you can supposedly put in your outstanding debts and figure out payment schedules for them. It sounds really good in principle, but I found that section of the site unworkably glitchy, on both laptop and iPad; I couldn't even get past the screen where you try to first enter one of your debts, as it required me to choose answers from two dropdowns neither of which would actually do anything. I was able to get an estimate from the "saving for a rainy day" goal, anyway, by putting in the amount of a debt and telling it I'd like to save up that much money in a year, but that's nothing I couldn't have done with a calculator and a bit of mental effort.

* Jumping back up to the top of the app, one other thing that does intermittently drive me bananas about the app is, when you put in a bill you get a dropdown where you select how often it should recur, but then it... doesn't recur. You have to manually put in the next occurrence. It's still a handy list of upcoming bills, but I actually had to resort to my phone calendar (which properly handles recurring events) to get a good visual on future months' bills.

* And because there is nowhere to put in your projected income and get a nice projection of "On X date you will have $XX in your bank account", or even better a daily graph of your expected cash flow so that you can see "yeah don't put that $300 in savings you'll need it for rent in two weeks", I've been reduced to, as mentioned above, manual daily projections through the end of the year using my phone calculator, phone calendar, Google Docs, and eventually my damn iPad drawing app (came with a Bluetooth stylus I never got working) because I couldn't find any physical graph paper.

* So. Um. Summary. I guess it's a good app? It's very sleek, it has nice charts and graphs and a good interface. But it thinks you can do a lot more with it than you can actually do. Its main uses for me are probably going to boil down to "stop forgetting bills" (the rolling list format works a lot better for my brain than the phone calendar format, even if I do have to re-enter data every time I mark a bill paid) and "finally figure out how much I spend on food really".

[kingofthenorth49]

Can someone check the GFCI?

When a circuit breaker snaps, it’s because the circuit was beginning to heat beyond design capacity and it’s shutting down to prevent something worse from happening, like fire or damage to a sensitive circuit or device.

It’s a safety device, and we all know how much I love safety devices, but at the end of the day if you don’t take action when a safety device activates, generally the damage can be much worse than what the device was actually protecting.

Folks, our owners have decided that it’s going to be much easier to control the world if they only have to do it from one government, and if you still think this is a conspiracy theory, you need to turn off CNN and step outside your basement. Even the dimwit in Ottawa can no longer keep the secret of where those in lofty chambers have decided we are going, although I sincerely doubt he understands the repercussions, just like 98% of the population. It’s not their fault, they are wired in such a way they can’t see the truth, either by design or programming.

Doesn’t matter which it is (blue dress/brown dress), the damage to our population has started and we don’t have the collective will to stop it, because we’ve been conditioned to be victims. Correction. Most have been conditioned over the past two decades to be victims, to be at the mercy of big government and those who know better than you do.

I’ve a friend who explains it perfectly. He says that most people cannot see past the end of any given month. It’s not a derogatory thing, it’s just who they are. These are the people who live paycheck to paycheck, who don’t plan for the future because they are just trying to stay alive. They work hard to keep up, but are consumed by just trying to cope with what life throws at them. These are the majority of people on this planet. Not a bad thing, but these are the type of people easily controlled by fear.

The next group are the people who can see 6 to 12 months, and they understand cause and effect better than the first group. They understand that payday loans are bad and that you should control your destiny through planning. These are the type of people who run our governments and provide services. They see the benefits to organized approaches to problems and find safety in numbers of like minded people.

The last group, the smallest one are those who can see 3 to 5 years down the road. These are the visionaries, people like Edison and Orwell, Tesla and Rand. These are the Elon Musks and Bill Gates of the world. They drive humanity through aspiration and ambition.

Unfortunately they aren’t always right, for example I would consider Karl Marx to one of the latter.

So why am I talking about Karl Marx and circuit breakers you ask?

Well it’s because my tin foil hat is on too tight, or because I’m not quite right in the head I guess, or any other of the labels those who can’t see past the end of the month would paste to someone like me who likes to think a bit more long term than the end of the next season of the Kardasians.

Shutting down the world for a bad flu wasn’t a decision based in science. It’s not even a decision based in safety, and believe me I know a thing or two about that. The whole “nobody moves, nobody gets hurt” thing really doesn’t work for long. Sure, nobody gets hurt, but no body eats either. This is what your average person isn’t thinking about when they scream “stay the blazes home”.

Yes, you can stay the blazes home. Yes,  you can cower under your bed until the bad thing passes, but at the end of the day the Magic Pantry was just a kids TV show.

Dude’s gotta eat, right?

I’m currently living inside the “Atlantic Bubble”, or whatever is left of it after those anointed in oil decided to take their toys and go home, but in reality we’ve created an interesting paradigm here on the east coast of Canada that’s unlike anywhere else in the world.

We’ve created the perfect culture of fear.

Now for those living outside the bubble, we’ve shut the door, turned off the lights and posted a big “FUCK OFF” sign on the front lawn. We’ve turned our back to the virus like it’s a Trump supporter. This is our plan. We’ve posted guards, created intricate rules around who can go where and why, and basically made it impossible to move anywhere without government permission. All over a bad flu with a survivalbility rate of over 99.4%, with 70%+ of the mortality coming from those 70 years of age and older. You are more likely to die from an automobile accident today than COVID.

Don’t get me wrong, COVID is no cake walk, it’s a nasty disease, but it’s not Ebola. I’ve been battling this virus now for 11 months, I’ve seen how it works, it’s veracity is substantial, and if you have co-morbidities such as diabetes or heart disease, it can take a toll on you, and yes, more people are dying from it than the seasonal flu, but at the end of the day it’s not going to wipe out the human race. The majority of the people who test positive don’t even know they have it.

And don’t get me started on testing.

I can’t talk publicly about it but if you see me out and about, ask me why I think testing is a control and not a diagnostic element. Sorry, the hat’s tightening.

Let me throw one example out for you to chew on, let’s say vaccines. Now the vaccines are the panacea for the masses right? I mean we should be amazed we were able to concoct a vaccine that is 95% effective in eradicating this virus inside 8 to 10 months, hell, we should be ecstatic, right? I mean it took 30+ years to get a handle on AIDS and we beat COVID in just 240 days. We currently linbe up to get an annual flu shot to protect us from the last major Coronavirus (Remember the Spanish Flu?) that has been in development for the last 60 years and it’s still only 35-40% effective, and less than 50% of Canadians get it

We must be freaking geniuses now.

I’ll never understand the sheer amount of dumb optimism that’s out there, but I certainly appreciate it. Without that optimism we’d be more like Lemmings than we currently are.

But back to the “great reset”, shall we?

So dude’s gotta eat, right? I’m going to quote one of my modern day heros, Elon Musk when he says “If people wants stuff, they have to make it” or something along those lines. In other words, there’s no money tree. My parents very early on taught me that lesson, and that if I wanted anything in life I had to earn it or make it, that there was no such thing as a free meal. The problem is most people today have been conditioned to think there is. Trudeau has been giving away our money like a drunken sailor on shore leave to the tune of $400 BILLION dollars in 8 months. Let me put it another way, in the last 240 days Trudeau has spent $10,814.00 per Canadian citizen, or around $25K per taxpayer. That’s debt folks, that’s directly on the shoulders of every Canadian. But it’s ok they say because interest rates are so low we can afford the additional leverage.

Problem is folks is interest rates don’t stay low after a major crisis. Why? It’s called inflation. As money supply loosens, so does the value of a dollar, and when the value of a dollar decreases because there’s more supply of dollars then prices increase. When prices start increasing wages need to go up to keep pace with inflation, and when that happens there are two options. Control monetary supply, otr deal with runaway inflation.

How do you control inflation you ask? Great question. You raise interest rates to throttle spending.

How can anyone forget the late 1970’s? It was less than 50 years ago folks. Remember Trudeau’s 6 & 5? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller? JUSTIN? For fuck sakes the kid was living at 22 Sussex drive when his father created the greatest economic challenge of our lifetime.

Wait, check that. Apparently the second wave will be worse than the first.

This great reset is gong to be tragic. Already they are estimating over 100 Million people in 3rd world countries will die next year due to disease and starvation because of the lock downs. In our own western countries the most disadvantages are already our most vunerable populations. Humans aren’t meant to be caged, nor can we afford to be. We need to be free, have purpose, and contribute to a vibrant society.

You can’t govern that. You can’t rule over a captive society for long. History has shown us that time and time again that King’s aren’t benevolent rulers and those who suffer the most are at the bottom the societal ladder.

If you aren’t seeing the end goal yet, I get it, but I do. You only need look as far as the ice cream eating elite who enjoy fine dining when your cupboard is near empty and jet off to Mexico while telling you can’t bury your spouse or child. They make you endure cruel mental anguish while they spend your tax dollars on jet setting and pontificating about a communist world that they rule.

All in the name of a better world, one free of climate change and racism.

Who knows, maybe they are right, maybe they are part of the component of society that sees the future more clearly than the rest of us.

I guess that’s why they get ice cream and can go spend Thanksgiving with their moms while you can’t bury yours.

I guess that’s just our lot in life, to be ruled, to understand it’s for thee, but not for me.

This what we want? This what we deserve? Am I wrong?

I don’t think I am, I just want to be. Can someone go downstairs and check the fuse?

Jim Out

[wizardsnwookies]

POTA 101818 - Magic and Mystery

The symbols confused Dion. Strange sigils of various shapes and lines that held no meaning to him, but clearly had some sort of importance. The way they circled around the central eye hinted at some kind of connection to whatever madness had occurred here. It was all so very strange. The tapestries that hung on the walls of this makeshift temple didn’t do much to encourage him. Images of earthquakes, storms, and blazing infernos delicately woven in colorful threads. Indeed there was much more to this than a man gone mad, but he had no clear indications as to what that might be.

“So...this is magic?” Miv stood staring at the orb as it floated amidst the tangle of arms carved from rock. A macabre pedestal for this strange holy artifact.

“Are you...unfamiliar with magic?” Dion inquired.

“Not much use for it in the Monastery. We were told that the only power we needed can be found from within. Strength, will, dedication, and Chi.”

“Think of it like Chi.” Dion stood, reaching a hand out to the orb. “Magic also can come from within, a mystical force that envelopes all the world and those beyond. It can be harnessed, channeled, and focused by the user for either good, or in this case, for ill.”

Carefully, he dipped his fingers through the veil of illusion that covered the orb. Not a ripple broke the surface. Inside he felt the cool, smooth, touch of metal against his fingers. He wrapped his hands around either side and cradled it delicately like an egg before slowly withdrawing. Once the large metal orb had broken the surface, the shimmering image of symbols disappeared, and the eye blinked out of existence.

“Magic can either reveal the truth, or conceal it. What was once an unholy idol, is nought but a simple Drift-Globe.”

“Drift-Globe?” The priest might as well be speaking Gnomish. Miv furrowed his brow, trying to take all this new information in. The comparison to Chi helped well enough, but he had a hard time imaging anything that could be channeled outwardly to the world around you.

“Yes, a simple magical item relatively speaking. It floats around the user providing light in the darkness. Think of it as a torch you do not have to carry, and can extinguish and ignite upon command.”

“...amazing.”

“Perhaps you would like to hang on to this for us?”

“Me?” Miv shrunk away from the offered globe as if it were a pit viper. “I...wouldn’t know how to use it.”

“I would be happy teach you.” Dion smiled.

---

Instructing the young Dragonborn took some time at first, but he was bright and eager to learn. The awkwardness he had shown at the tavern had melted away and he was starting to open up. His energy starting to flow outward. He was quick to learn, a product of his mindfulness training as a Monk. Dion smiled, watching as Miv amused himself by making the globe dance and flicker in the air. The levity was welcome in this dark place. Unfortunately, he had to pull himself away from this scene and find the one named Flea. Something he had said, did not sit well with the cleric.

He was found standing in observance of one of the tapestries. It was a particularly chilling scene depicting floods sweeping across a plain, washing away towns and villages, drowning all who inhabited it. Flea was nodding, whispering to some unseen figure or figures. A loose pebble on the floor gave Dion away on his approach, and the conversation stopped, his attention drawn.

“Have you indulged your curiosity yet? Can we go now?”

“So eager to leave?”

“I don’t like this place.” Flea pulled his eyes away from the Tapestry, a lingering glare in his eyes.

“No, neither do I. We can get moving once we’ve finished all the final rites. Although, if I may, can I ask you a question?”

“Knock yourself out.” Flea shrugged.

“You said that magic you used early was your family? I’m wondering if you could enlighten me on this further?” Dion danced around the subject delicately. He had very real concerns, concerns that had to be addressed, but Flea had shown himself to be rather rough around the edges. Best not to offend him outright, it would be easier getting the info he wanted.

“What’s there to say? I get my power from my ancestors. They follow me into battle and lend me their strength and wisdom.”

“I see. Are they...who you talk to when you are by yourself?”

“Yes.” Flea narrowed his eyes. Ancestral magic was a sticky topic of discussion in his experience. Most of the time people just assumed you were crazy. He had a hard enough time with social prejudice being a half-orc, being called a madman was not something he took kindly to.

“Why don’t you just come out and say what you want to say?”

“I’m sorry. I’m just a bit...concerned. The spirits of your ancestors don’t belong here. They deserve their rest, they deserve peace.”

Flea let out a boisterous laugh that startled the cleric. The guffaws echoed off the walls, sounding like an entire crowd of half-orcs doubled over in a mirthful amusement.

“Oh, priest.” Flea clapped a hand on the man’s shoulder. “I can’t get rid of them!”

“I’m sorry but I don’t see the humor in-”

“You’ve got nothing to worry about. They’re here on their own accord. In my family, we take care of our own, dead or alive.”

Dion forced a half-smile he didn’t entirely feel. Although his concerns were lessened, he still had many questions he would prefer answered. It all seemed wrong to him. To deny oneself the eternal rest, to forever roam a plane you cannot and should not exist in. Why would you ever choose that? Especially, if you’re dead to begin with.

“Let’s leave it there for now. You amuse me priest, but don’t press your luck.” Flea gave him a playful shove, perhaps a bit too hard, sending the waif of a cleric nearly toppling over.

“Come. Let’s go head back to town and I’ll buy you a drink.”

---

Banshae stood tall at the mouth of the hall leading to the Necromancer’s chambers. Though all threats had been dealt with, no danger to be had, still she stood watch. In reality, it was the only thing could think to do. This is why she hated downtime. The time where normal people keep themselves busy with their own interests or friends. As far as Banshae knew, she had neither. For her, downtime was merely a depressing stare down with the open void within her.

“Not too shabby at all.” Elora cinched the coin purse shit, tossing the last coin inside. She liked the sound it made when it met with the others, the gentle yet satisfying clink of metal on metal. The ‘Lord of Lance Rock’ was not rich by any means, but it was a decent enough payday combined with their fee to make the trip worth while.

“I might just be able to afford that lovely dress I saw in town.” AFTER her usual donation of funds back home, she added to herself.

“Oh, and no offense of course, but we need to get you some new clothes while we’re at it.”

“I beg pardon?” Banshae blinked.

“Well I couldn’t help but notice in the past few days together you seem to only have the one set. Unless you’re hiding some kind of grand wardrobe in a bag of holding.”

“No...” She was starting to get uncomfortable. Elora had announced herself as the most outgoing of their group early on. Talkative, friendly, but ultimately harmless. So why was she so nervous?

“I thought not.” Elora stepped back and took a good long appraisal of the Dragonborn’s form. Banshae visibly squirmed under her scrutiny, the silver in her cheeks flushing with a red hue, but she was too focused to notice. Just like her home, here was something she could help fix. When she fixed things, her mind focused to a fine point, blocking everything else out in the world.

“A bit short for your kind...nice curves...broad shouldered...good cheekbones. You’ve got plenty of options, that’s for sure. We can start simple, something casual so you don’t have to wear that horrid armor all the time.”

“I am a soldier of Mirobar.” Banshae gritted her teeth. She felt suddenly cornered in the large open room with no clear options of escape. She could deal with her own modesty, the unease of being appraised in such a way. What frightened her were all the questions that would have to be asked, that she had no answer for. What colors did she like? What style? How did she identify? All lost to the void.

“You’re more than that I’m sure, besides even soldiers have time off.” Elora offered a restrained smile. She was starting to notice it now. The Dragonborn was shifting in her place, avoiding eye contact, and she was quite sure any physical contact would be quite unwelcome.

“I’m sorry. I get ahead of myself sometimes. I just wanted to offer my help, if you should want it.” She walked things back a bit, trying to find a more comfortable space for Banshae to retreat to.

“...thank you.” That was all she could manage for a moment, letting the unease settle. She tried standing taller, let herself crawl back into the shell of the soldier, the only thing that was somewhat familiar to her. There she found some kind of strength, if not confidence.

“I must also apologize. There are things about myself that...” No. Try again. “Currently, I feel this is something I have to do by myself. I realize I seem withdrawn, and know that your efforts to welcome me are acknowledge and appreciated.

“Unfortunately, there are things that must kept to myself for the moment.” A small smile grew on her lips, barely noticeable on the outside but Banshae noticed if only because it wasn’t forced.

“When the time comes, however. We will go shopping.”

Buy Me a Coffee

[cover32-yahoopartner-blog]

Buffalo Bills: Things we know this Week

Friday night was an epic evening Buffalo style, gathering down at Canalside, pure Buffalonians everywhere your eyes peered and as Buffalo natives always do, they came to get their party on. The Canadian brand beer, Labatt, both Blue and Blue Light, which Buffalo basically adopted as the Queen City’s beer over the past three decades was “flowing like wine, where beautiful women instinctively flock like the salmon of Capistrano. I’m talking about a little place called ASPEN”.

Stealing from the extremely worthy — in a shameless fashion — and legendary character Lloyd Christmas in the classic Jim Carey movie, the Citizen Kane of jobless bachelor road trip movies, Dumb and Dumber.  Harry — Jeff Daniels – replied “Oh I don’t know Lloyd, the French are assholes!”

I digress swiftly. Other vendors were selling popular local craft beer for those who prefer the IPA’s, stouts, ambers and have moved on from the basic lagers with so much variety these days. When I was growing up you got lured towards Labatt’s as you got old enough to afford it over the dirt cheap swill consumed by the poor youths.

However, if you wanted something local, it was Genesee Crème Ale, straight out of Lake Ontario with the sneakers, dead trout and broken glass professionally  filtered out of the water; closest to Rochester, New York and famous for assisting as a laxative the next day.

This gathering of all gatherings was the famous Buffalo Philharmonic Orchestra along with the well known tribute/cover band The Strictly Hip. Dedicating their musical careers 22 years ago to the music of their idols and music mentors, The Tragically Hip were jamming near perfect renditions of the real Tragically Hip who basically went on a farewell tour last year after front man Gord Downie was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer. The Buffalo Philharmonic Orchestra played gracefully behind them adding a unique touch to a large portion of the coveted show.

Tragically Hip, a huge legendary band in Canada, often called the nation’s best band, did not dominate with commercial success south of the border in the states. They played their fair share of U.S soil shows in Vegas and California and made appearances on Saturday Night Live and other shows, but as much as they really did not care, they did not grab the United States like the Beatles and many others did during the British Invasion.

Western New York, and especially the Buffalo metro area, fell in love with this band back in the early to mid 90’s — some earlier in the 80’s who listened to a lot of Canadian music — and from my first time seeing them play up in Barrie, Ontario in 1989, followed by years of seeing them at festivals and arenas, it was amazing see how the legend of Gordie and his band grew and their songs became anthems of a wide range of ages and backgrounds of Western New Yorkers.

Friends of mine from college who live in the mid west have never heard of this band. They were single handedly adopted in Buffalo as if they were from the Queen City herself, similar but on a less mainstream scale as the Goo Goo Dolls. But Canada is our friendly neighbors to the north, a mere 90 minute car ride to Toronto from my driveway if I go at an odd hour with no traffic.

Excluding monster Canadian bands with major commercial success in the states like Rush, Triumph, Bryan Adams, and Loverboy, Buffalo has had many other bands from Canada close to their hearts like 5440, Barenaked Ladies, Lowest of the Low, Moxy Fruvous, TPOH and many more. One reason for this musical love affair is possibly because many of us grew up listening to their radio stations like 102.1 CFNY and 97.7 Hits FM.

We even voyage up and over on the Queen Elizabeth Highway to see bands like Depeche Mode, The Cure, The Killers, Phoenix… bands that maybe pass by smaller populated areas like Buffalo, but cannot resist the draw from the multi-million populations in North America’s fourth largest city. Keep in mind our beloved Bills played one super successful home game in that same city each season for a stretch of years which we attended and please find my sarcasm in the earlier portion of this sentence regarding super and successful.

The Toronto experiment was a complete failure and it also really threatened and angered Bills fans who own season tickets. We still share the Bills with southern Ontario as far as support of the team goes. However, a game did not need to be played in front of a half empty old Sky dome, I believe now known as the Rogers Center, to have support of southern Ontario.

AROUND COVER32

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What’s Trending: Is Raiders’ pass rusher, Khalil Mack, the next in line for a big payday

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cover32 Exclusive: Check out this follow up interview with NFL hopeful, DT Keyso Moss

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Rogers’s communications was one of the ownership threats that would have eventually relocated the Bills with that traitor Jon Bon Jovi. Hey Jon… You are from New Jersey… why such traitor? Who knows how long President Trump would have taken to move them had he outbid and been awarded the Bills franchise?

As my traveled 47-year-old bladder and I waited in line to use the super clean, well lit, smelling like roses, gleaming like Matt Dillon’s smile in “There’s something about Mary”, I chatted with several different groups of people in different lines. This was much more interesting than one would think. One couple had their kids all waiting in line that were big Bills fans.

After talking about Shady McCoy and expectations of the defense, I realized most of these various high school aged teens were not alive until well after the music city miracle. They are huge fans of a team that for their entire lives have not played in a single home or away playoff game.

So what seems like an eternity to me, I still clearly remember rushing the field after clinching the division against the Jets in 1988 — thanks Fred Smirlas — and going to my only Super bowl in Minneapolis in 1992, along with plenty of playoff memories that are irrefutable, it is still a sad state of affairs knowing so many fans have never once seen our beloved Bills in the postseason.

I am somewhat used to former employees of mine who were younger or my nephews and neighbors not recalling the Super bowl era because they were not born just yet, or if they were they were too young to remember. They all know of the legends and stories but only have recollection of playoffs under Wade Phillips or the last couple games with Marv and Kelly in playoff form.

The teens that do not amass any real memory of any form of playoff football have really been short changed in their time as Bill fans. It was really challenging to relate to that point when we talked football. So I changed the subject to The Tragically Hip and we ran into that same issue when talking about the younger version of the band from the early 90’s and late 80’s.

I was saved by the door to a porta–potty popping open as I said “It was such a pleasure chatting, but I got to get in there really quick before the smell goes to waste. I was kidding, referencing the guy in front of us was getting high in there and I was being silly that I would grab his second hand smoke.

The teens did not catch on and looked at me like I was one sick old man who wanted to go smell the porta-potty after a guy dropped said deuce in there. I hesitated for a second or two planning on setting the facts straight about what I was actually joking about. Clear your name Scott you dummy!

I then realized it was not worth my time, I will never see these tools again, and I proceeded to go use the facilities and there was no treat waiting my arrival. It was all business. Enough with the Potty Mouth though…..

Things We Know About The Buffalo Bills This Week:

LeSean McCoy is a 29-years old for this coming season, coming off a nice season of combined receiving yards, rushing yards and touchdowns scored. He looked great out there and he says he feels great. Technology in training has come a long way, but in the case of the running backs, they have had shorter careers than in the past. McCoy claims he’s elusive and does not take those punishing shots and when he gets hit he knows how to take the hit. Keeping him healthy may be the most important challenge due to what he can do all on his own.

Several reports have surfaced that 27-year old Jerel Worthy, defensive tackle brought in as a backup last season by Rex Ryan, had a noteworthy OTA display of talents. That is some nice depth on the line if he continues with the form he is showing under the more basic scheme Buffalo will be using this season.  Good news. Good News.

Niagara Falls native and Canisius High School product Qadree Ollison, plays running back for University Of Pittsburgh and was conference rookie of the year in 2015. Why am I bringing this to your reading eyes? That means he played with the Bills fifth round selection in this year’s draft, quarterback Nathan Peterman.

“What John Gruden said is so true about him being the most NFL-ready quarterback because he’s real big on timing and spacing and depth of routes, all those things you need to know to try to be a great quarterback. He’s a leader,” Ollison said, echoing much of the analyst-speak heard after the Peterman pick.

Ollison will not be joining his good friend in the NFL this season. Do not worry! He is not quitting football and hanging from his teeth above the Falls from a helicopter or walking the tightrope. The only records he looks to break would be college football related. He is returning to school and will hopefully have the starting position locked up now that his predecessor has moved on.

Ollison text Peterman to congratulate him when he was picked. He reassured him he is going to an awesome city in Buffalo where the support from the fans is second to none. Who knows… maybe we will have a local product playing running back next season if the Bills draft him or sign him undrafted. That would be a nice.

BILLS NEWS: Watkins looking for uptick in NFL Spending

Speaking of nice,

The Bryk House

“Shake it down, shake it down now. We’re together everybody knows and this is how the story goes.  Mighty Mighty…Bryk House”

Great Song. Funky Tune. It’s no “I love College”, but then again, what is? The Commodores were never the same after Lionel Richie’s departure to go dance on some ceilings all night long. They just never could quite rock like Blink 182 or The Killers, could never get me dancing like New Order, emotional like The Cure, singing along like The Smith’s or Phoenix or just loving every song, lyric and beat as Depeche Mode or The Tragically Hip did… well… does.

But not being my style of music does not make me naïve that a great song is a great song with a glorious name.

Herb Brooks once said before the 1980 Olympics, ”With Great Songs come great responsibility”. That’s not what he said. I am here for the Buffalo Bills and not hockey coaches or music so “Back the Brick off.” And by me stating I am here for the Buffalo Bills only – you would never guess that reading my commentary most weeks. Long winded… well yeah, duh, shah huh… that is why I write a mere one of these hotrods per week and spare you of multiple.

Random Bryk House Thoughts on Independence Day 2017:

Obtainable/Reasonable Goals

1.) Win double digit games: If 9 get’s you a wildcard berth. So be it, beggars can’t be choosers.

2.) Make the playoffs. (See above)

Bonus:

1.) Wildcard Round Victory

2.) Divisional Round Victory

Anything after that I would say is ‘nice’

“Shake it down, shake it down now. We’re together everybody knows and this is how the story goes.  Mighty Mighty…Bryk House”

READ MORE: Buffalo stuck in no-man’s land for 2017

The post Buffalo Bills: Things we know this Week appeared first on Cover32.

[georgielou-50913]

a sad questionnaire

What do you wish was different?

My life. I wish things had turned out different, I wish my family wasnt so against me, i wish i wasnt so damaged, i wish i was a better person. i wish everything about my life was different, just not him. he is perfect. he is the ONLY thing keeping me alive, keeping me going. but god i wish things were different.

What’s the hardest part about that?

things cannot change. i am too damaged, and unless you can bring back my little girl i will never be able to feel any different. so im better off dead yeah? things could be a little different if i didn't live here. but thats not going to change for a very long time.

Are you thinking about anything bad that might happen?

so many things? so work hasnt been greatly lately i havent been getting the hours i need. my nan (who i live with) has basically told me if i cant pay the rent ill be homeless. my boyfriend has a big family and stays with his parents so theres nothing they can do for me, they dont have the room. i couldnt pay my rent last month, and i dont know if im going to be able to this month either. i cant afford to live in my own place nor can i make that decision because i dont know if ill ever be able to pay the rent. i am not getting any work, no where near enough. not even 200 quid per month. last month i earnt 140 quid, i get paid by the hour and theres no work. im trying so hard to find a new job but its not that easy anymore. shes making my life hell every single day and there is nothing i can do. if im homeless i will just throw myself off a bridge.

What was the sad bit there for you?

being stuck in this house, that i cannot change, being spoken down to every day, all day. getting inside my head telling me how useless and worthless i am, basically i was better off dead.

What are you thinking might go wrong here?

as above..... im going to become homeless, if not this month then next month? i cant pay everything, im in debt. i cant even pay my phone bill. i cant afford to pay anything, nothing at all. my boyfriend helped me last month and left himself in further debt. i cant do that to him, he cant afford to keep us both going when he sis struggling to keep himself going. 

What else has happened that makes this worse?

my uncle recently went into hospital, and me and luke did absolutely everything we did to help him and my nan, but now that luke has no money and is running on barely any petrol.. i said i may not be able to help for a while and basically this has caused a huge storm at home for me, she will not allow my boyfriend in the house anymore and is basically ruining my life now, coming into my room several times a day to rip the shit out of me, reminding me every hour how much she hates me and i feel like im stuck in an incredibly bad emotional abusive relationship and there truly is no way out, im already stressed as it is, i keep breaking into tears all the time. i didnt say i WOULDNT help i just said that it was going to be a bit harder, i didnt deserve the way she spoke to me or the way she is treating me, especially luke.

Do you know why you feel upset about this, or do you just feel upset?

i think ive explained all that above. basically its a neverending thing of talking down to me and telling me how worthless i am and im fat, and stupid, and selfish, and evil and mean, i am better off dead. why was i even born? to suffer? why me.

What is the worst thing about that?

the worst thing is its my own nan who is making me feel this way. the one lady i have looked up to my whole life and would do anything for. and she is making me want to die.

What else is hard about that situation?

its put a lot of strain on all my other realtionships, i have tried to break up with luke on several occassions when that isnt even what i want to do. that is not what i want i just dont want him getting mixed up in all this situation. im trying to protect him aswell. but i dont want him to see me this way, ive lost my appetite i dont want to eat, im letting myself go completely i could just sleep all day, sleep forever.

Do you feel more sad/hurt/angry/worried about that or some other feeling?

ive suffered depression most of my life anyway but i always fight it you know? this time i cant shake it, ive been suffering for months and its getting worse, with a strong history of self harming i havent resorted to that yet, but its becoming more and more appealing, and this time ive relied more on alcohol than hurting myself, because self harm is only short term relief, alcohol lets me forget for the whole day and i can relax.  i just dont think im going to break it this time.

Are you worried about people thinking this?

i dont really have anyone to talk to, i dont want lukes family thinking im a bad influence for him to be with, although they say they are there to listen, especially his sister, i dont want to be a burden and i dont want to vent all this on them, i dont want advice. i dont want help. well i do.... but what can they really do to help me? i have to be careful of what i write on social media.... i am not attention seeking, more like a cry for help.

On a scale from 1-10, how worried/upset/mad/scared/hurt are you about this?

10. .....way more than 10.. i want to die.

 Okay, so how about compared to this other thing?  What is worse 

both the fear of being homeless and the constant abuse im getting by staying here. the fact of me being stuck in this house being told every day all day how worthless i am, is the worse, its classed as emtoional abuse, making someone want to die is bad. i dont know if she realises this is what she is doing. i cant really compare. not knowing whether im going to be homeless at the end of the month is terrifying, where will i go?  i cant say which is worse, because both are as bad as eachother.

When you aren't busy/when you are lying in bed at night - what are the things that make you most upset?

not knowing whether im going to get work the next day, wondering if its going to be enough. wondering whether tomorrow will be easier, i share a room with my nan so i get constant abuse right from the minute i wake up to the second i fall asleep. its neverending.

Is there anything about this you feel embarrassed or ashamed about?

the fact that my own nan is ruining my life? tearing me apart. ripping my heart into pieces... ashamed. yes.

What are the some of the things you're worried people might be thinking about you?

i dont want her to tell people that i was selfish, i never said i wouldnt help. we have done so much for the past couple weeks, and before. she is making it sound like we did nothing, and that all we cared about was money, she barely gave us anything, and what she did was purely for petrol because we have absolutely no money atall... so its been incredibly hard. we did these things because we wanted to help. and shes thrown it all back in our faces. i cant forgive that. but now she tells people that i am selfish, that i did nothing to help. that i did not want to help and this was not the case atall.

How often are you feeling upset about it?

it doesnt go away, when i have her constantly reminding me all day that i am a worthless useless horrible evil nasty fat useless waste of space. it doesnt end. i am getting worse.

What do you wish you could change about yourself in all of this?

i wish i could be as special as my sister, she is so proud of her. i wish she could of been proud of me too, i made some mistakes in life, and i pay for them everyday. i wish you could be proud of me too. thats all i ever wanted to hear from you, not how you wish youd never adopted me into your home.

What makes you feel a bit better about all of this?

having luke by my side.

What's the most frustrating part of it all?

I cannot defend myself with the way she talks to me, because if i do id get thrown out in seconds. then what do i do?  Ive also badgered on at my boss to give me more work, explained my situation and all they say is there is no more work to give me. ive been applying for other jobs for months and had a few interviews but its just not worked out. i dont know what else to do.

What do you think people don't understand about this?

there is only so much you can push someone. and i am at the very end, i speak to people but they just tell me to either ignore it or find another job. no it is not that fucking simple! how do you ignore someone who is constantly in your face reminding you of how shit you are every single day.

What would make this a little better?

if i could move into lukes house, he tells me if i become homeless that would happen, but i dont think he is right, his parents have already said theyd love to take me in but there genuinely is no room.  i just want to get away fromt this place.

What is coming up in your week that will be hard because of this?

well i have another week till payday, that is the day i find out my fate i suppose. am i going to be homeless again..

When was the last time you cried about this?

today, ive lost count how many times ive cried today, cried myself to sleep last night, ive been crying everyday.

What helps you cope?

tumblr, online games, working, music, tv shows, anything to occupy myself. but its all short lived.

What times of day are the hardest for you?

the times im not working, today i have absolutely no work at all so i have t be stuck here all day listening to abuse. tomorrow i will be working in the morning then again tomorrow evening, then ill be staying at lukes house this weekend and ill be working over the weekend so ill not have much time to think about it. but during the day is the hardest. because i have to just endure it. waiting for the time to pass. tomorrow ill only have a few hours here.  but ive still gotta get through the night.