#i could see if she's free friday or saturday . but she probably isnt | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nocancer · 5 years ago

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Tryna by Cancer moon

Before Young T went to bed he poured a glass of water and looked out the kitchen window to his backyard and noted how the snow made 3:00 A.M. look like 6:00 P.M.. Only difference being that if he stepped outside with his glass of water to the seeming twilight he wouldn’t be able to hear the rush-hour traffic like he usually could if it was Friday and 6:00 P.M.. Young T didn’t bother going outside because the snow was still falling a little and it’d be there when he woke up. And the neighborhood would still be silent, as it always was.

Young T woke up and his fan was still humming its white noise which he needed to sleep at night even though it was January and his dad was reluctant to leave the heat on over night. The small fan sat on his dresser and was pointed away from his bed towards his window which emitted a sharper and more blinding afternoon light than what he was used to. He checked his phone for the time, it was about noon - about the time where his parents bedroom door would open and their TV would blast the local news and his persian cat, Jo Jo, would meow at his door from which would force him out of bed to open the door so Jo Jo could jump up on his bed to sleep on his pillow from which he would either start his day or keep doing nothing. This time he laid back down, idly on his bed, with the covers pulled over his head to lessen the effects of his slight cat allergy. Jo Jo had a flat face and was grey and fat, and he occupied the entire pillow. Young T thought of how he wanted to trade lives with Jo Jo.

Young T couldn’t fall back to sleep, so he looked at his phone. He bireifly looked at worldstarhiphop, Twitter, then Instagram.

Then he went to bed with a head ache and woke up in college.

9/27/17 wednesday

Tycho: excuse me, hey, getting along just fine, I see? Yolandra: hey, and yeah, sort of, just studying, whats going on with you T: Nothing, the usual, i guess, being responsible, trying not to offend anyone. Y: Oh but you're so innocent. If anyone's offended its on them, not you. T: But my presence alone, I dont know, like I'm out of place or something. And I just want to tell people, Yeah, so, I know how strange it is, me being here and all. Y: You're a free spirit amongst prisoners. That was my favorite part about getting to know you.

Tycho: After all these years, not for a second did i think you were right for me. And thats why i liked you. Cus I'm crazy. Yolandra: thats okay? what do you mean?, i want to get inside your head again. T: [pause] Most people wouldnt understand. Y: Don't be too cool for school. Im not most people. If I knew what was good for me, I'd have cut ties with you a long time ago. But im a crazy bitch too. Havent you realized? T: Yes. Youre highly psychic when it comes to "free spirits" like me - and you, though maybe, "lost soul" would be a better term for me. Though I dont mind being lost. It keeps things interesting. Anyway, you should spend your energy on solving world hunger than worrying about me. Y: dont be so difficult. catching vibes isnt easy you know? coming for your type. Who knows, maybe youre worth it. Tycho: well, your the first to try me like this. im mysterious for a reason. Yolandra: And do you know why exactly? T: Thats for me to decide. Y: It's so damn frustrating. But I guess some things are better left unsaid. T: Most people wouldnt understand that, what youre saying. Indescribable feelings we know happened but fall short in explaining. That sort of thing. Y: I call those. "You had to be there" moments. Tycho: Honestly i never gave up on you, only myself, thinking you were different from my dream girl. it took months for me to realize that but when i did the only thing i wanted to do was forget i ever met you. Yolandra: than what? T: the rest of these simple people that surround us, they see in a way thats opposite of what i am. Y: how convenient it must be. to blame your problems on people you dont even know. and just say "fuck it." I envy you. T: just my luck haha. of being born into myself, my personality forgive me, i dont mean to be such a downer. thats my ego talking Y: you had to be there T: where? Y: in my memories. T: it matters that much to you? Y: if I could find you in a crowd, just to say something, anything, even if i have to scream it in your ear, then you'd know how much it means to me. Tycho: I'll be waiting for you to say hola.

9/30/17 saturday In the midst of an obnoxious trap beat I remember what my grandpa used to tell me. It's the harsh realities of life that stick with us the most. A dream is only a dream until you make it come true. Never hit a women no exceptions." He would say to a 7 year old me. Now I wish I had the balls back then to tell him that his strict army ass probably never had a dream that went beyond what he already knew. Like revisiting the same shitty cloud of meaningless thoughts every night till you reincarnate into someone who revisits a slightly less shitty cloud over and over until they become someone like me, who lives on the cloud everyone strives to be, forgetting those elvish looking folks of the below who never leave the house except to get groceries. There's comes a point in life where you just gotta be honest with yourself, and say hey, i just dont match the freqeuncy anymore. It's okay. I can still pretend like that one MGMT song, but im fading away. Fuck. I get naseous and imagine a cop coming around the corner which kills my vibe for a second so I take my headphones off, spit on my finger tip, ash the blunt, and walk to my dorm. I'm in water so muddy that the surface is all I have to cling onto. What lies beneath is my past, housing the memories like demons. Of course, her face, would be in the middle. Falling more faintly in detail as I wake up sober and go to sleep high and dream nonsense that somehow doesnt go away like the usual forgotten dream you usually wouldnt give a second thought to otherwise but this morning my head feels foggy and theres a vague recollection of a search going on but I dont know what it's for and my chances of knowing diminish as I go deeper into the day. A search, it's on repeat, like my brain is an actual TV. Thats probably a normal thought to have, though I've never heard it in real words. "Is my brain a TV." I say to myself. if you can call it that. but those take the shape of monsters of which, as if I had no choice, I find myself preparing for so when the moment really matters, I can either go down in a blaze of glory or come out on top like the badass I imagine myself to be. All I know is that I was born and now I have to live.

Maybe because my past is so glaringly depicted onto a person I refuse to acknowledge. All that shit was a dream. The only thing that matters is the present, right? Bill Nye the Science Guy would agree with that. Back in elementary whenever we had a sub for the day, a cart would roll in and thats how you knew. I watched his show in elementary school, when we had a substitute teacher. Those were the best days. I had no worries then, able to speak freely with no inhibitions as if duality had nothing to latch its mechanical claws onto. Wait, I'm thinking about the past again. And thats going way back. Fuck! Okay.. On your feet soldier! That baby momma drama dont fly out here in the real world. out here it's the winners and the losers, haves and the have-nots, thats the way it is.

We're here to endure anxiety. I dont care about this slave shit. I think im gonna drop out. These fucking people bro, I shouldve known better than to come here. Deep down in the recesses of my highly realized capacity for recognizing everyday objects I'm hearing the voice my computer makes. It just so happens that I'm a little different from everyone else. I see things. Feel them. Some are expressed. Others proccessed. Though most get put away for later. These things I speak of is all they'll ever be to Some bad. Some good. But in the end I understand the root cause is nothing and thats where I pretty much exist anyway. In between any and all things, including people. At least that what it feels like. So although I may come off as shy and maybe a bit soft to the average layperson I aint no bitch and I wont hesitate to put my body on the line to make some headway when it comes to cementing my place as a savage demon in the halls of said layperson's memory bank. Someone who is wise would recognize the virtue of my conviction It is only because I must prepare for that singular moment, an unknown point in the fabric of time and space. To where if theyre not careful, a life's worth of energy should be pitted against me as if one were to stand a chance against the power housed within my vessle. Theres no such thing as a polite gesture. Nobody asks me how my day is "going" for no other reason than to relay to me how their own special day is "going". reckoning between a humble acknowledgement that I can never truly grasp the reason for existing and therefor should play my part in keeping the peace, versus pure badass in a world of sheep. And the more I get to know my surroundings, the more I reach erradically for the inherent bliss found within the path of satanism.

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Spmewhere off in the distance, Crermoth sits on a palm tree idly sculpting astral suspensions into a tattered fervor of mesh for working the keys of ineptitude. She is oblivious to her surroundings, not caring for chatty and gossip which she cant seperate between her reality and theirs because she is sensitive and when the the fully recognized sage, Esoh, confronts her about she says she much prefers it that way.

Their balance among them. With the wind at her side, Hojihka refuses the initial preference of her stillness and moves in a nameless precession by the whim of her ancestral birth right. "aaa may-ee soo shay-noo"

Her possession wakes up without a name. a new and more elaborate transposition of jubilee onto each successive indifference. The attention to one area renders the outer confines a vacuum enveloping the excess span unto both of their liable to taken over like a plain, sole, unconscious will. It certainly does its job Crermoth and has become something of a plan b pill thats taken during one of her many unpredictable episodes of self hate and general spiritual torment. One time she told J-Money she was a demon in a matter of factness that still haunts J-Money in moments when he pretends it doesnt bother him.. Reliant upon the interaction of her world and the next. Crermoth normally prefers being to herself on nights like these, that way she can answer any calls at a moments notice. A dimension close enough so that she may assist her friends in earthly manners of which, by the natural law of limitation, those lacking the incessant nobility of the Orisha cannot be bothered to see to themselves, less the tether between her world and theirs be rendered a useless tattered fervor of mesh that gives way to any varitable knock of an over arching brood of usurpment of the mundane frequency. “I need space. I only have but so much light of see to her calling as a being of light, assisting the pieces of herself that we’re lost during the falling. You remember that don’t you?” She says “Of course I remember. But only as a matter of fact. Upon closer reflection I fail to see the relevance of a subtle hunch with no bearings in the present.”

I must know that I’m allowed to be straight up with you, else I run the risk of straying from my calling. If there’s anything I hate more than being ignored its catching myself being lazy to the voices. “She musn’t veer to far.” Esoh said on a mountain.

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The woman wakes up to look around. Store-bought soil, empty bike-rack, office building. "Harder. Think harder. Come on girl." She stands for dignity's sake. A car traces a hilltop in the distance. She raises her cold arms to the sun in defiance of stillness. Nothing is in tune with the nature of her being besides the stale wind of a coming day. "Where are you?" The car freezes as it reaches the horizon, but the sound remains on loop. Whirrrrr A portal manifests abruptly and Elegua arrives on a chariot of skulls. "Erzulie, madame, how nice it is to see you this early in the morning." A whisp of fire cleans her face and the car continues over the horizon. "It really shouldnt be, not like this. Where Im at should tell a lot you know." Erzulie said. "Quite a dense reply to a longtime friend, dont you think" "Hmm, considering how I slept in a bush last night and dont remember a thing. I shouldnt need to explain myself." "No? is the friz on your hair not matching the blood on your knees? I can't tell which." Elegua said. Or is the attitude possessing you as if theres no consequence for ill-manneredness? I cant tell which." So long as one's not so dense up his selfish ass that he aint notice." "Oh so now all a sudden you about the finer things in life? We can switch places less you miss me. Erzulie said. Im only pointing out the obvious." Elegua said. Erzulie replied with silence, forcing life to flash before his eyes. She learned this from her Mother, Darkness. "Attitude is possessing you. I cant tell why but its a poison I dont deserve. I was only trying to help" He continued. "I just dont fuck with being called too early. So long as youre not too dense up your ass to take notice, safe to say i'm in some shit right now." "Clearly. A product of consequence." Elegua said randomly. "Yeah, recognize. Please, for me, baby?" "No more testing your patience, Goddess immortal of justice. Save that for what I came to tell you about." "Take me to cleanliness, saintly promise of wisdom. For im not feeling myself." They left the scene to the past and pondered on the pyramid they had just made with each other. "It's nice to be home." Erzulie said. Flying over the palm trees brought Elegua back to his power. "On the basis of love." Elegua said. The salt-water washed away all glimpses of doubt Erzulie had of her beauty. And she harnessed the pastels of the ocean. Thus, all guilt was abolished and unconditional love was convinced to dance within them. Drying his body under the rays of Amen reminded Elegua of his first words. Long ago, before Time was born. "O Father, you are so brilliant." "Thank you, son. I am the Light" "Then tell me, Father, if you are the Light, and are so brilliant, then why is it you flee from Darkness?" "All I do is my purpose, which seeks to balance harmony with creation. Although it is much more complicated than that. Like always I suppose. I'm afraid you ask me a question that I cannot answer. Here, because you are so curious, I will show you." "I'm ready, Father." Light grew brighter causing Elegua to cry in his recollection of what it felt like to say words. The links in his mind straining to pull in the right words. Not too plain to where the moment would be lost in happen stance, and not too radical so that his manhood could stay irrefutable (to convey meaning.) Then Light disintegrated into everything and Elegua searched for Light ever since. So Elegua went to the crossroads, and prodded Darkness for Light's wherabouts, "I want to relive the the moments before he left for eternity. Where can I find him?" Without a hug or a kiss, she told him to let go of his experience in order to live in the now, "Take his place and move forward. Grow up, your Daddy's gone cus you never did." "How could you say that me? I love you, Mom. Yet all I get is hate. Why are you hiding the truth from me?" "If I don't hate you, then who will? You got so much to learn that my heart breaks into brass. You must leave, understand me? LEAVE, before I do what your Father did and them some. I'm this close. Believe me." With nowhere else to go, Elegua obeyed the commands of his Mother. Although lonely at first, the spirits of the dead related to his despair, and offered to guide him through all the known and unknown realms of Ether, so long as he guided the spirits of the living to his Mother. So that the dead could learn for themselves the origins of their being dead. And when Light came back, they could say "Father, we know of Hate, now teach us Love." Elegua tried telling them that it was hopeless, that his Father was there, just not in the way they imagined, that they we're actually his Father and they had to realize it through an altered perception. but that negativity only made them more adament to their cause which annoyed Elegua into a manic spell of existential irony which persisted during times of war with the Snakes on 5th density. One battle in particular Badly wounded, he pulled his chariot with his arms to the middle of a corn-field on a full-moon during the Solstice, it was there he made a pact with his self, to never be ignorant to the fact that fate was an inescapable constant within all contributors to existence. That the very fabric that distinguishes the dead from the living was comprised of scattered shards of an indestructable essence that attached itself to the spirit-body via fate which is the Father of destiny. That the collective conscious is woven by the thread of Fate, thus binding a common goal, or Destiny, inherent to all beings of both polarities, thus setting in motion the spiral of gnosis, which lends itself to the spreading of keys that open the doors to helping each other fulfill each others Purpose. "I will collect the pieces of my Father so that I may speak with him again as I did as a child. I will never forget you because I love you. You are everything to me, which is all I ever could be. Please, I want to know why you flee in the face of Darkness."

____10/9/17 monday

My pace quickens as I veer away from the crowd onto the handicap stairs. I silently count my steps to give off a pensive, non-assuming vibe. Over by the quad theres crows just walking on the grass. Yet I'm the only one who seems to notice, even from a distance. The busses haul ass down Memorial St. I've learned to always be on alert because I'll never know whats waiting for me when I turn my attention off the floor and become reminded of string theory. Artificial energy, cork boards with grime on the edges, tunnel of dull ends, spongy plywood cielings. as i step with my head down and in every so sudden a demarcation in the bricks, the reptiles answer emails. This is where I'm going. Because my soul chose to live here at some point in time not too long ago considering the relationship between all that the universe has to offer and my general apathy towards said all as in any and all one. Which has become quite of a bore ever since the first week ended I had to come to terms with the reality that friends won't simply fall into my lap like they would if I wasnt such a masochist for being lonely. The row of pillars turn to one and all I see is the contentment in the air of the lobby. In the hallway are casually turned faces which glide about in a linear fashion like the ghost of a lost bride.. I get a side-view of the people afraid to admit that this is far from the paradise we expected it to be. The brochure in our acceptance letters didn't include the drunken nights of another dimension. I'm inside the life of an architect. One who's dead by now, but lives on through his work. I'm not going anywhere, the building would say, if it could talk. And I suppose it can. Because I just had the thought, and nothing is ever truly wrong without another thought to compare it to. But then if buildings could speak existed first, and was allowed to grow and find its place in the universe, then it'd be established enough to not warrant an adversary. But the question remains where, if it existed, was its fate organized before coming into my mind, awaiting my final judgement. Substitute me for a unicellular collective conscious and it seems like we're all dealers of fate her on planet earth of the milky way of the universe of the whatever comes next (should we ever know for sure). he or she deserves all the credit for it manifesting onto the grid of my consciousness, which is a zig zag joint's worth of a high right now. The perfect amount for not giving a fuck while still staying slick enough for witty comebacks. Which wouldn't hurt right now. This building isn't going anywhere. Though I wish it would. Because I dread what I'm about to do How he must have pained to communicate something he could call his own while maintaining a dignified and safe, always safe, because god forgive, well, you know, , putting the pen to the pad, drawing collumns in front of a Victorian fassad Succumbing to authority just to eat with a roof over your head and not freeze your ass off like a homeless freak. Profit margins in the final half of quarter one are lower than 1 standard deviation to what is considered by corporate to be optimal. As of now, the college has no incentive to ship in product from outside sources. All inventory must be stored in house to the buyer's demand. You better not be late.

___ On the parking deck

Tycho: “I had a dream I was on an internet forum. Someone posted the words: “life is an endless hell. With a blurry picture of a street at night-time. Not much different from what’s in front of us. I thought that made sense, until I scrolled down, to see a video looking out the windshield of a vintage rolls royce, coasting along a pacific highway. And the lines kept going. Next thing you know I’m falling down a pitch black waterslide, dreading my destination. If I never woke up I have a funny feeling i know where it was leading.

Preacher: In that instance did you feel the need to repent for your sins?

Tycho: No. that didn’t cross my mind. It was too late at that point.

Miranda: “I used to.

T: What made it stop?

Miranda: Seeing all the happy people around me. And knowing that they’ve been through the same shit. Break-ups, Death in the family, just generally feeling lost.

My heart was broken ”

T: Getting over the mind can be a dark place when it has nowhere else to rest. You can train it to think anything.”

Miranda: True

Tycho: Lately Ive been taking these long drives late at night into the boonies. Just to see where I up. I realized theres so many lives I’ll never know about.

If i wasnt born into money maybe I’d be humble enough to hate myself for even thinking such a thing.

How’d you get out of that?

Miranda:

These know it all professors are getting on my nerves. I fear Im crossing into an abyss I’ll never fully understand. Honestly I can’t fuckin stand these people. What name do I have to make for myself that i haven’t already experienced in the depths of my soul?

Tyco: You know how they try to act like they all official and shit, like I won’t see past it.

Miranda: [agreement] They do that.

Tyco: [stream of consciousness] So I just told her look I know its a rule, but I’m all about learning at my own pace and no disrespect i love her but Mrs. Soso can only go so far in telling me how to write. You can give tips and tricks but at the end of the day, I’ve been developed my writing style.. Like I thought we were done with all this high school shit. Well I didnt say that.

M: And what’d she say?

Tyco: She was like “As you get further into your major 90% of your assignments will be in essay format.. we require full participation “ At this im like she gonna hit me with the book like hell nah THEN outta nowhere She said “However, I also believe in 2nd chances.”. On the outside I was cool but inside I was like “*fist bump* yo i cannot fail outta college like someone watchin out for me idk who but-

Chad: fuck that shiiiiit *holds up white rum in front of street light”

Friend in background: 12! 12! 12!

Abrupt scene change. Camera shows Tyco zoned out. Then police car, as Tyco begins to hide behind the tree hes smoking on.

My black hoodie and phone-call to my dealer will still be with me tomorrow as I do the same thing.

(From a dream 10/23)

Tyco is driving around serving with Shantel when she lights her phone up from the passenger seat and puts the phone to her ear.

Shantel: You are not finna be talkin all that mess on my phone. Be honest with yourself. Don’t lie. You a hoe ass bitch.

?? Caller: Why are you even calling me? I dont give a fuck.

Shantel: Wait till I pull up then and slap the shit out you. Would that be better sweety?

?? Caller: I’m at Kawaii’s 30 deep. Bring your lil boyfriend and see what happens.

Shantel: Try me bitch.

[ The economy sedan turns right on red seemingly without breaking. ]

Tyco: 30 deep huh?

Shantel: With them ratchets.

Tyco: She sounds scared as hell aint nobody sticken up for her like that. You know they gonna talk shit right but soon as we throw them hands they gon be like, I dont know that bitch.

Shantel: nah but she stupid tho like not even worth all that extra

Tyco: We’re going. Wheres that nigga house i’ll waze that shit and we get there we just pop off. Aite?

[Not looking at the road, but to her, coasting down an average 2-lane with box neon trimmed tire shops and drive-thru windows governed stately as immovable beasts of mothership stores lurk behind low-sodium trenches of the new world order’s surveillence agenda for mass poplations en masse. ]

Just follow me. I’m walkin in and gonna start a commotion just bussin and you just break this bottle on her mother fuckin head and we out.

Shantel: haaah what okay

Tyco: You’re gonna fuck her shit up som serious.

Shantel: She talk shit about you.

Tyco: It’s in the stars babe for real.

Shantel: You gonna help me find that bitch?

Tyco: You my fucken queen I love you and I got you.

Neighborhood entrance.

Cars parked for miles.

House identified first glance.

Park.

Car doors..

Hip-Hop

Grass.

Walkway.

Steps.

Porch.

Door opens and yellow tops within the frame.

!! WHERE YOU AT// YALL FAKE AND CANT FINESSEE !!

AAAAAH YOU UGLY DARK SKINNED NIGROS

The caller is sitting on a couch ass to ass with other dudes. Looking stupid.

She never saw Shantel. Who came upon her like The Ring.

She has become a party magnet. It is a Slayer concert now. Nobody knows who’s who. Though Tyco is surely getting his ass beat. He catches of glimpse of Shantel’s fat ass ducking through the doorway and he could die right now and it wouldnt matter.

*GUN SHOT*

FUCK GOIN ON HERE MANE

“This not the place for you bro. - White boy comin up here in my place of business - Tryna pop shit off like you really not a bitch”

Kawaii looks up with his glock-9 extendo at his GD party mostly all gone just like that. The poor girl is still leaking.

“She need to go to the hospital.” Her friend says.

He points the glock at his head. Despair.

“Look around before I kill you.” An invitation.

Tycho: “I sold a 4 oz today after my accounting exam. I could be GD, 74, rock purp. whatever it be its nothing but Respect yo. Got connects with chad and Becky nahmean dog. Could put you on to some numbers they white and they fiends. Please OG.

“How much for a zip.”

“80, gas.”

“Was that yo bitch?”

“yea”

Kawaii: You lyin to me?

“No.”

“She eat your ass?”

“Yeah and bounce on my BIG ASS DICK” Tyco says with autism.

K walks away.

T: they don't even sell Molly bruh

K is you fucken high you dummies. Beat this nigga ass. *Tyco imagines the why the fuck you lyyin vine and remembers the exact moment he realized that wasnt an original song but actually a spin off of a classic throwback jam by the 90s R&B group “Next” in their hit single “Too Close”.. He was driving home from the cafe he used to write high school essays in while smoking a menthol american spirit with the windows rolled down on a spring evening playing KISS 104.1 Atlantas classic jams. Then he realized there was a full 6 minute video of the vine on youtube. After watching it he felt gayer. Thats all it did for him.

Tycho wakes up on living room floor.Terry (random G, on couch): *Hands him note× Kawaii said he's sorry. No hard feelings ya heard dog?

Tyco: I guess thugs act on impulse. *looks at note* and don't count on a gahdamn thing you bitchass motherfuckers. Tyco walks into class with a black eye. The Professor talks about interest loans. Tyco meets Moe after class in parking lot.

*Moe: Waddup

Tyco: It's lemon og I just got in.

Moe: Bet. Those last cookies you got. Bomb dude. It had them frar mother fuckers leanin like they can't handle that purp like that nahmean.*laughs*

Tyco: I got some backwoods you wanna hotbox.

Moe: Yo I'm down.

10/24/17 thursday

____ Last night I decided not to hate myself. The look I get from them doesnt bother me. Really, its a simple sign from nature that I’m used to by now. A wrong impression can sustain the fog of memory, of which I will be seen from the lens of another dimension, with not a care in the world, an angel in disguise. Thats the crux of my life up to this point. To no longer hate myself. But appear as if I still do. The nameless place in our past with no address., one of which even a frat boy can relate to. This invisible standard that’s thrown us into the pits of despair must be addressed. To seperate the real from the fake. Like the others are sleep walking through class fronting like they dont see me. The pyramid of perspective is an accordian overlayed on my third eye, televising scenes of sleep walkers who stay fronting like they dont see me. Walking behind the parking deck where green dumpsters were with my phone to my ear is a feeling that remains within me until I do the same thing over again in a few days. Buying in bulk never appealed to me. And if a 20 a g was the price thered be nothing my lonely ass could do. Fuck this worthless paper, I tell myself.

I tell myself. Anyone who catches my glimpse pauses for a split second, calibrating my own opinion of the why in life. A definition of nuance that was never meant to be expressed but felt. To sense what I’ve been wanting, free and alone, after all those wasted days.

I’m signalling. Though I havent been approached yet.

Figuring that would resolve the look I give other people. I mean, christ, I turned 18 last March. And spent the Summer in a last ditch effort to secure an identity before I made my plays in college. For too long I’ve avoided the call of the light and in return have gotten blank stares.

(SOMEHOW gets wrapped up into a petty conversation with sorirty girl (on top of parking deck.)

Clarissa: I was the only one alone in the entire party.

Tycho: Why didnt you leave?

T: Dont worry I dont wanna know your major.

C; Good cus it keeps changing.

T: You think you know everything dont you? This world aint nothin babe.

C: Why do you say that?

T: What do you wanna know? That I get money? Thats nothin.

Clarissa drifts off.

Hannah: So Stacy’s telling me the banners weren’t in that right place and we’re like an hour away from starting and we still haven’t even got the chairs in order and barely anyone who was suppose to be here has shown up yet.

Tycho: Where were they?

“Well for one, Candace, I dont know whats her problem lately, but shes been gone because her best-friends now telling her she’s not rushing anymore but thats honestly a relief because that girl wheres winged eyeliner and thinks shes better than us.”

Tycho: Oh, I think I’ve seen that girl at the library or something.

I intuit that in order to justify her reasoning for not liking the winged eyeliner girl, that she channeled my very own resonant storm cloud of which I emit silently in the face of vanity..

H: Well you’ll probably see her there a lot more cus shes definitely not with us.

“Okay so thats one.” I say as if taking notes.

“Then Rachel’s out at some charity event that I never even heard of probably with a guy she’s not telling us about which is so frustrating that of all days you pick friday night at the peak of rush to go be a hoe behind our backs.”

“Did she ever show up to the party?”

“Yeah. And she was fucking drunk.” She said as if surprised but not really because this is Rachel we’re talking about, after all.

“Like wasted orrr “

“Damn I didnt know yall got down like that.”

“Umm when youre stumbling through the door and your first words to all the new girls is hallelujah bitches!

She wasn’t with a guy.

“So tell me more about the party. Like was there”

who nobody knows anyway

is that Cheyenne is just out of it because her friends now telling her she doesnt want to rush anymore and for one its like look,

Wait, who’s hannah?

Hannah’s the leader of her sorority.

Ooooh, Okay, I see why now

-Yeah, I mean if word got around that would literally mean she was going around their backs to cover up that she was lying.

> Right. Yeah I hear what you sayin. She’s trying to make it seem as if it never concerned yall in the first place but if thats the case then she dont need to be acting like she got the right to be trusted.

This goes beyond reputation. Manipulating emotions just cus she has none of her own. Conniving biitch. just to get her way goes beyond reputation.

Aint nobody wanna be around that energy.

> So what you tell her?

I get schizophrenic when it comes accepting new ways of being. The person I made him out to be was the perfect cure for my suffering. All those forgetful nights of boredom I knew what I needed all along, but was to scared to do it myself.

------ Frat house halloween party kidnap scene ----

GD shaman prays to shango for power to go out by mantra. Squad in car repeats the same mantra. The power goes out at 1:00 (or peak of the party).

Tycho throws blue flare through the side of the window

at the Tycho must find Chad and lure him downstairs near the door so the squad can get the keys to the room full cocaine and adderal. After looking everwhere he’s no where to be found. He walks in on a couple having with the girl in missionary with devil ears. “Yo chad that you?” Its

(fuckem x3) Music stops from power so he sneaks in wireless speaker in his robot costume and puts it at one end of the room. Squad member 1 will carry bigger wireless speaker and set it down when he storms in. Tycho also brings a timed strobe light to distract people and keep the illusion of the party still going.

Tycho runs down stairs and towards door with chad chasing him. Squad slaps tape and mask on him and carries like a battering ram although theyve already kicked the door.

*Power turns back on*

“Fuck em, fuck em, nigga get out my section

Don’t want to see him, I don’t want to touch him

*waves zippo lighter in front of face so chad can see him through mask*

“Ima count 3 seconds and your dead on 5 if i dont get this combination” says calmly. thus saiyth the lord thy god”

“Three... No mercy”

“Two.. Shall be given unto those”

*gives code*

“One.”

Love takes many shapes and forms.Tycho never opened up to people, hating himself for being incapable of feeling what others felt. He wanted more so he went spiritual. Which his close friends perceived as going off the deep end."Ayy whatsup bro you tryna smoke?""I have a calc exam tomorrow but I'm down after."Aight good luck on your studying tonight and then kill it tomorrow I know you got this calc is your specialty can't say the same for me but that's why you always tutored me haha."Let me know if you need more help. Figuring their was no bounds and he could be whatever, even silent, and experience irony rather than fate. How bland, he thought, to have a life plan and nothing to look forward to. Running drugs would be a necessary chain reaction. The highest elixer exceeding the bliss provided by the very weight he'd be pushing, itd be getting off on defying his own life, leaving spirit his only option. And so like a blackbird his soul seeks experience only in the clearest degree of visibility. Swerving transgressions of lonliness to levy the burdens of contrived responsibilities at societies every turn until his flight patterns veer from the trodden path to and fro the calling of reality in which he desires to preside over as a God of many statures. Untainted by works, head first into the entity of the adversary, of which he is able to predict the situational consequence in only a glimpsing moment before havoc ensues and the final hour is upon him, his loose wings coated with astral charcoal of depravity. Be caught slipping once and he loses the jump until the enevitable program takes its course - an unstoppable relationship between fate and reckoning that must be fulfilled as day turns to night. Once that happens he reverts back to being like the rest of them. Yet to the world, now desolated beyond repair, hed still be alive, exuding a calm presence that something is not quite right with him existing without remorse. The truth is simple enough, a hint just ever so slight as to never be able to cross the threshold of utterance, thus becoming rendered a convinction of self delusion on the part of the unknowing accuser, who by this time hates himself for even thinking badly of such a good guy to make peace with. The collage curtails past the illusion of what is already known and at last the watchers take notice and thus regeneration is able to take place along all the land, allowing for new energy to take the throne of anticipation. One that has harnessed the potential to become anything the wonder puts his mind too. So what if I'm imaginative? Yolandra: I mean everyone's different in their own way. Like yeah the soroitys have a dress code and all that Starbucks and capris. But I don't know. You just have to get know a person for who they are and not how the outside world perceives them to be. T: So what'd you first think of me? Yolandra: Honestly not much anything. You were one of those people who could be anything. But then I overheard you say taurus's are gold diggers and I hated you cus I'm a taurus. T: Oh sorry I really didn't mean it like that but c'mon now I can tell you have a taste for finer things you bougie little.. Boob. *laugh\ haha "you know what I mean" It doesn't bother you? What? That so much could go wrong so quickly? Look, deep down he's telling you his heart lies with getting over and you let him because that's /just what you like about him, how deep he gets. cus he's a sad and selfish individual who was never about loving anything other than vanity. The best thing to do would be to trust his actions, intentions aren't what's important right now. Really, forget about the soul connection. Loves comes through all types of people as long as you're open to receiving them. Those energies. Don't lose yourself in the illusion. Without ever taking credit for what truly matters which should be you. Then your fashion made sense to me. T: I'm so caught up in myself. I mean, it's impossible to know anything else. I'll never get to stand in your shoes. Its just truth. Yet I'm the bad guy. You're not like the other people I've met. T: Yeah I'm kind of loner if you couldn't tell already. I guess that's a good thing.T: Hey it's okay. I get that a lot... Wait what do you mean you guess? Ive found that who evers saying does a 180 in their normalcy. Knowing your even here right now is a good thing. Knowing that you're with me even when im not. Don't you think? Starting out with confidence and ending strong to be lucky if I'm not hurt. Tell me what you want out of this. Sometimes I feel so lame, then I realize how fun itd be to not care. Through the window screen i see parchments and grass blades, this is an image I've sought to ignore for its blandness thinking I was over recognizing such mundane structures. The sunlight made me drunk with non verbal contemplation. I crave this heat when I'm in low spirits. And a breeze when I'm high. My thoughts are channeled from a lonely place (My thoughts come from a lonely place) I've had no choice but to become accustomed to for my own sanity. To work faster and breach that veil of reckonning. So unreachable and enticing at the same time.T When I'm alone, welcome something more than the past if you ever cared to help me. This isn't the only world out there. And even if it was the material would eventually reach infinity. Then a black hole would open or something. Don't quote me on that, science is the hottest thing going right now. It cant hurt to butt in unofficially. As long as no one calls you on it. The universe molds to your confidence. That's another story. At the end of the day, I have too much pride to be a scientist. The God they're serving calls for a lot of self sacrifice. A self that ignores emergency when called to speak. A self i'm not prepared to lose. "Why are you here again, nothing will change, you're gonna be quiet like last time" any handle on reality I had during the sun rise flees like an ex girlfriend into the night. I'm not prepared to lose. Anxiety is that humid feeling you get when roughnecking the time away. Jaded peripherals, internet browsing, and fading friends initiate a color spectrum so cruelly vivid in its inability to be shared with the CVS cashier who looked at you wrong because you bought 3 4oz bottles of robitussin. A man who couldnt care to see the streets, stop signs, and traffic lights. Man is a slang term we use when caught in the moment. Of which matrix programming loves to grasp onto. --- 10/25/17 wednesday So here I am enjoying a piece of lackluster nothing for the sake of something I've agreed to experience in a past life I can't even remember but somehow must make amends to as if its an actual concrete thing I can touch and make sense out of without caring to ponder how life puts us in these type situations like getting your hair done a new way and meeting a friend of a friend superficially without ever following up like aight word up bro I feel you by the way hows life and what's the special fact I should become one with in this moment while not thinking too much in to things or else id be alone as if we're not alive under the stars for any other reason than to be happy but still to me that becomes too much like a flash in time rather than something meaningful because then sex would have to be our purpose for being here but you and I both know it's more complicated than that so we look into it via memories and realize the journey was brighter than the reward as in I don't remember the actual sex part but rather the day as a whole with stained glass sprinkled in on a film reel to push the past into something real and unexplainably alluring to the self of which we projected this light onto in order to perhaps know in advance maybe how to repeat this metaphysical phenomenon for a second time because we're not quite there yet although at this rate if seems that to finally reach a state of thereness would mean we wouldn't be able to be here right now having this conversation like a building block struck from below or a house of cards we have to keep faith that every moment plays its part because we had an emotion for it and therefore couldn't be rendered to nothing in a wreckless attempt force it all together rather let each tile compliment it's neighbor and bypass the need for destruction by allowing enough caring energy to flow through that filter mechanism within you that deems lifes moments as worth remembering or forgetting and pretend you never heard about forgetting and avoid it like the plague because everything that ever was is depending on you to go forth into righteous so that gods original intention for letting go of unwanted baggage be synthesized within your vessel of upgrades intelligence so that the journey can still be appreciated only this time without th deceptive veil of the end. to question the little things that somehow don't mean much but at the same time appear to us daily as conduits for good fortune and thats what we must uphold ___ 11/2/17 thursday

I you and me playcated on a surface of stones that match our longing to search in the wrong places. Convenient are we done such a conceivable time that is time which is also time because what more can be said other than us winding down a fire escape to an inexplicable hatch sitting like paper mache on our transformative spiritual natures. Gone already but not forgotten just make sure to take the negative side of every situation involving 1 or more parties so as to make sure the rythym is in order because you can't go wrong with challenging the status quo of an area you're not suppose to be in even if that seems too easy and superficial it's the right choice because even the idea of rebellion as a bad thing must be able to project into a physical thing prompt for examination so secrets may be revealed. Wouldn't you know i stopped believing in faith due to its redundancy of chasing metaphysical strings too far out for us to put into words and isn't that the source of all our angst. Depraved of propositional phrases and elemental tables it's all so clear to me now. Casandra had a bag and Mikey had his sneakers in the forefront like a low hanging fruit but of course they had personalities that weren't so easy to see unless the hard work of interfacing came into the equation. Lets judge people based on judging for the sake of basing ourselves onto something not within our realm of reality. Perception is a hard question i think maybe inanimate objects could tell us a thing or two. Low pressure sodium lamps.Documentorial lecture hall amps failing to reach the end of the pyramid turned 90 degrees away from its focal point. May disease not reach our unexplainable selves if ever they may inhabit our temporary vessels like a friend who has no friends but you and wants desperately to get along with others but is attached to your ways. Are we in hell? What can our astral travels tell us about signaling locations with Etheric marks of time dialation. Things are what they are by defintion or they wouldn t be things however stepping the observer up a notch sets in motion cancer to grow from the singular notion that we ourselves separate on a cost of lightening our load. I am partly responsible for this mess we have made. Pulling my hair out in thin strands so as to not make a difference. Some people just don't understand what it means to be so far gone yet in a place of enchantment that lets us know we're not alone as Michael Jackson plays on the ham radio and Wikipedia says the song was written by r kelly. I'm a solitary young man, joined at the seams complacency and red-ridden vanishing points to a line of sight I'd rather not identify with if I had a choice. I'm seriously considering becoming rich and famous despite others already forcing me to. I guess eventually my spirit will give in as my soul looks from a distance and says what a fool I am then goes about his day. You can't be like the rest of them no matter how hard you try. Thinking on the sensualities you avoided after this rap shit led you no where. The palace at the height of creation where Jesus stopped and stared to collect his thoughts before he kept going when his alarm rang as his slave bending consistency tracked the new melinnia into a moldy piece of sandstone cheese the better of which tasted nutty with fruity notes and 80% abv shards of liquid glass on the throat thatd make even an immortal weep a shy tear or two. The pigs down in Mississippi feel things we can't understand in their slaughterhouse decrepit and forwarned in a musk ridden air flow that's non existent to hypocritical angels who were supposed to stop atrocity but opted to sit on their ads and play virtua tennis all day. Oink says the pig. Hee haw says the donkey. Give me life says the God and there on the 30th night fags came to tell the story on their faces. The bag lady told them to shut up and stop whining but they wouldn't listen though they lost their ability to speak. Goodness gracious me oh my great balls of fire. Great balls of ball you are the Lord of my lonely century in this dimension I took awareness to when I allowed you into my heart space.And then I left asking my self: Who is this I?

755559888a

Let’s stand for a while and think about the dastardly ways we have gone under the waters and flew away from temptation. Have us saying isnt it so pretty to be in something and have that to fall back on due to the struggles of forgetting the place we come from which didnt always have it out for us this bad in refusing us of inconjunctions we can at least point to and blame our problems on saying “See! There, I told you so. That’s why we cant find our beginning!” And we’ll keep toilling the fields as halflings saving up for a chance to leave the very universe we serve. “So thats more like it. Finally something I can get my flows on to” Shelly the alien said. “The Stars dont have to like you just because you see them. They have their place and so do we” Gerald said. “Oh but they do.” “How do you know?” “Well for one they always shine bright at the most oppurtune times, like when I’m feeling down about the part of myself that conveinently seems to escape me just when I need it most. If that be so then put me on to something else and that’ll do just fine.” “Perhaps you're not as big as you thought ” Gerald held up his hand to salvage what was left of the dissolving psychic barrier between them. An invisible giant with an ocd issue. For now he could only listen. “No im not here to choose and thats exactly why Im not afraid to go where you can’t. Having the courage to admit your wrongs requires as much energy as universal rotation itself - a force which exists beyond our pleaidien awareness. ” “ But Shel- Okay whatever” Gerald paused and rolled the horizon through his scaly fingertips. “Keep calling on the unknown and you might get lost because it’s been there forever and sometimes Look, Shelly, no offense, you know I love you, but your awareness has no filter on what representation it can cling onto like danger isnt a reality to you. Me and Dazel always had to look out for you and thats just in this world what makes you think you can take on things you cant even see? “But do you believe in me? Anyone can say they love me. I’ve been hearing that my whole life. So much that it holds the same meaning as “um” does in conversation. Is that really the final conclusion we have at the end of the day? That you love me? Besides, I dont think you really meant that.”

“Here goes Miss Type-1 personality again. Always needing to label circles into squares, stars into gods, this as that, out of an inability to cope with insecurity. Leaving the rest of us as unwilling participants.”

“HOW DO YOU KNOW WHAT’S WRONG IN NATURE?” Shelly bawled.

The beach of Temofose was out of walking distance from the orange cottage they grew up in with there Mom. When they were young it was somewhere theyd go when they had nothing else to do. Euweu Sister Beach was the brighter of the two, but now too populated for their liking. Temofose is less frequented by other families and polluted by cargo ships and a lack of open views but as they stood there a semblence of twilight through the holographic cages offered closure to the purpose of them arguing in the elements about a timeline Shelly was going to step into And no matter what argument he could put forth, Gerald thought of it fruitless unless he spoke from his heart, a heart of which Shelly was currently taking the place of, so that he could not use it against her. “Shelly, I just hope you can understand how I dont want to let you go.” “I’m sorry you feel that way. But it’s my choice. Have a good njght Gerald. I love you” She said as she went into darkness.

Summer Break 2018

As a street light exploring strip malls, I am a linoleum tile on top of a trapezoid emitting frames of rave scenes. Heres where I find myself walking through last nights dream of the gang member selling duck pussy then getting assaulted by a pizza guy and a cop. Alone after those nights. Seems love was never meant to be expressed but felt. I look inside to see if I’m about to die, seeing diamonds mixed with sky. Materializing in the backdrop of my memories. Now I know why.

Now I know.

Then a wren on the fence manifests when it needs to. The perspective pyramid is that I pleaded for a higher calling. There’s nobody bohemian as me. One day I’ll take this civic off the road and escape into my sacred grove. If only I wasnt such a bitch.

I carry my single briefcase through the airport parking lot. I’m hot and out of breath. Everyone watching me. I can read their thoughts but not my own. They say look at the guy who isnt me but is still conscious enough to move his vessel.

The a/c runs down to the end of the terminal, but my spirit is squared by the stores selling vain material. The pyramid of perspective is an accordian overlayed on my mind’s eye televises scenes too chaotic to put into words. Walking through customs is an event to be remembered, I tell myself. Anyone who catches my glimpse pauses for a split second, calibrating my own opinion of the why in life. A definition of nuance that was never meant to be expressed but felt. To sense what I’ve been wanting, free and alone, after all those wasted days. I board the flight to say finally I am my own religion. If I was flying over africa I’d see bon fires, but over Georgia I only see street lights. Thinking how absurd that they will speak of me as crazy. Others will listen. A vibration through these amber aisles to look no further than my destiny. Because everyone has their destination is the way it goes. I refuse. I’m tired of being a number. Atlanta had its place. Now I’m homeless in Tokyo. This is the not-so perfect end to the chapter planned out for me by the higher power. Not-so bad neither.

Save me. I’m on the other side now.

#chapter 1 #short-story #novella #atl streetz #cancer moon #tryna

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orbemnews · 4 years ago

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For Britain’s Art Dealers, Post-Brexit Trade Isn’t So Free LONDON — “You could just jump in a van, drive to Europe and cross all the borders to buy decorative antiques. You’d drive straight back through French customs. It was seamless,” said Andrew Hirst, a British dealer specializing in old textiles, who in 2018 moved with his family to Ireland, after Britain’s vote to leave the European Union. Hirst’s business is still based in London, and he said he was concerned that the combination of Brexit and the coronavirus pandemic would put an end to his specialist trade. Britain left the European Union in January 2020, but it followed E.U. rules until a new trade agreement negotiated with the bloc came into effect on Jan. 1. But British businesses across a range of sectors, including art and antiques, are now discovering trade is not quite as free as they had hoped. Value-added tax, or VAT — a tax on goods and services that is usually paid by consumers — is now payable when importing artworks into Britain from the European Union, and vice versa. Dealers at every level of the trade are also encountering unforeseen administrative and transportation costs that are damaging their profitability. “I won’t be going to Europe to buy antiques like that again,” Hirst said. Britain was the world’s No. 2 market for art and antiques in 2019 after the United States, with $12.7 billion of sales — 20 percent of the total global market, according to the 2020 Art Basel and UBS Art Market Report. But owing to “turmoil with the rollout of Brexit,” the report added, Britain’s market declined 9 percent in 2019, while sales in France, Europe’s next biggest market, grew 7 percent. Since Jan. 1, collectors based in the European Union, where member countries set their own tax rates, now face VAT bills varying between 5.5 percent (France) and 25 percent (Denmark) on art or collectibles imported from Britain. (Britain charges 5 percent for items coming from the bloc.) “Brexit has made the U.K. a faraway country,” said Andre Gordts, a Belgian collector who is one of an unknown number of international buyers who quietly moved their collections after the Brexit referendum to avoid VAT payments. “It just makes things extremely difficult, enhancing the trade of bureaucrats and punishing hard-working artists and honest tradesmen in their galleries,” Gordts said. In 2016, he sold his London apartment and moved permanently to Brussels. “The only way out for British based galleries, I think, is to open a branch in the E.U.” Ursula Casamonti, the London-based director of Tornabuoni Art, a leading Italian gallery specializing in modern and contemporary art, with branches in Britain, France and Switzerland, said the dealership would now have to pay thousands of euros in administrative charges when moving artworks around to mount exhibitions. “The administrative, tax, shipment and timing costs for doing business in the U.K. have now increased,” she said. “While we still love the city, we now have a more negative idea about London as an international center for modern and contemporary art.” Victor Khureya, the operations director of Gander & White, one of Britain’s biggest specialist art shippers, said there had been a “quite significant” rise in the cost of transportation since Brexit. “There is a lot of administration, a lot of documentation and there are a lot of teething problems,” Khureya said. “It results in delays, which are costly,” he added, noting that a recent shipment had been delayed for 24 hours by a French customs officer who misunderstood the relevant forms. Khureya said that a shipment that before Brexit had cost about 250 pounds, or about $340, was now almost £1,000. If a work of art is worth many thousands of pounds, these shipping costs represent a relatively marginal increase. But Brexit has also resulted in punitive cost increases in the transportation of lower-value items. In January, Thomas Heneage, a long-established dealer in London specializing in art books, sold an item for £75, or about $100, to a customer in France, he said in a recent interview. The courier added charges adding up to more than $60, including a “fuel subsidy,” “Brexit adjustment” and “duties and taxes” that were almost four times what they usually charged, he said. The customer canceled the order, Heneage said. Disruption at the top end of the auction market, however, appears to be minimal, said Sebastian Fahey, the managing director of European operations for Sotheby’s. “For the vast majority of buyers and sellers at Sotheby’s, there is no change, post-Brexit,” Fahey said, adding that private individuals in the European Union represented only a “small minority” of the buyers at his company’s London auctions. He said that the new VAT charges for importing items into the bloc from Britain “will be no different to the situation they faced previously when they bought in non-E.U. locations, such as New York, or Geneva.” Some dealers and collectors in European Union countries with high taxes on the art trade, like Germany, see Brexit as an opportunity. “In terms of trade between Germany and the U.K., it actually has quite some advantages,” said Johann König, a leading Berlin contemporary art dealer who also has a gallery in London. König pointed out that art bought in Germany could be imported to Britain relatively cheaply and that pieces bought in Britain would be subject to import VAT of 7 percent, whereas Germany charged 19 percent on domestic transactions. “I believe that in the long-term, once a period of adaptation, and Covid, has passed, London will retain its importance within the European and global landscape as a major cultural hub,” König said. “We are continuing our activities in the U.K. and probably are going to even build it out more.” Hirst, the British textile dealer now living in Ireland, said he also saw opportunities in post-Brexit Britain — as long as he can stay in business. Until December, when government imposed a more stringent lockdown in England, he had been flying from Cork, Ireland, to London each week to trade every Friday and Saturday from an open-air stall at the popular antiques market on Portobello Road. Hirst said he expected thousands of small businesses to go bust, creating openings for those who survive. “There will be a lot of bankrupt stock,” Hirst said. “I may have to sell contemporary fabrics, rather than the beautiful old stuff I used to buy in Europe. “It’s adapt or die.” Source link Orbem News #Art #Britains #dealers #free #isnt #PostBrexit #Trade

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phoebeinhell · 4 years ago

Text

Let me tell you about my last three days

"I just saw that tumblr actually posted my last post. I thought it didn't work because I had internet problems and then it was just gone but hey cool! See that as a follow up!"

So I planned friday to be a cheat day. Friends were coming over to celebrate one friends end of exams. We wanted to drink. We planned to eat or so did I. It was pretty clear a few days before that apparently one friend thought she wouldnt eat when they are drunk. Then I also knew that another friend of us doesnt eat a lot too. I kinda think he is insecure of eating in front of people but it was enough for me to be unsure. Well so I threw the idea of eating on that day away and we only drank. I remember at some point there was pizza and only me and the fourth friend ate it I think. Not even much but yeah. I also remember tho being free to purge as much as I wanted to I basically just threw it all up again. The alc made it even easier. I puked so much my nose was bleeding. So I didnt cound calories that day because obviously I had a lot of them through the alcohol alone. I just dont give liquids that much weight in all that. I rarely drink something else than water or tea.

The next day I had the worst hangover in a long time. I just didnt do a lot. Well I had a big ass craving for spaghetti and I caved it. In this weak moment I decided to reschedule my cheat day for saturday. It made sense. I ordered some cheesy orlando spaghetti from dominos. It was great! Love it! But it came clear to me that a "cheat day" now means something very different for me. Normally I eat a whole portion and could probably eat a second one if I wanted to. This time tho I maybe ate a half. My stomach has shrunken and I nearly puked. I felt so full!!! Well I kind felt good about how little I was able to eat that I was instantly back in the game. I puked it all out again. Two days of purging. Two days of bulimia. I wont say this is good. I try not to puke too often. But I dont give me a hard time for those bad decisions. I enjoyed that food and know there wont be much consequences. So I decided to pick myself up and continue the next day. This was probably my fear. Like... who knows how bad my craving would be the next day after my body felt this pizza and spaghetti goodness. BUT it wasnt there.

On sunday (today) I munched on some grapes and nothing more. It isnt even bad. I dont taste the pizza or spaghetti anymore (probably because my stomach acid burned it away lol) and the best part is that I went on a walk today with a friend. Just walking and talking. We walked for like 3-4h (because we got lost) in the cold and it was great! We had so much fun. This probably was a nice calm workout since I dont workout at all. Well when I came home I decided it was time to get rid of food again. I got the lentil stew we still had opened it and threw it away. Biggest shock of my life because just a minute later my flatmate came home. He knows I was bulimic at some point in my life but I think he didnt catch on to me since yet. But I am scared he could make some quick assumptions. Well he didnt see me tho and I just made a tea. Easy.

Great three days! And you know why? Because I dont hate myself for it. I see the positive!

Because

Eating isn't losing!

Giving up is!

So don't!

#buliimix #tw eating stuff #anorexik

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cauldronoflove · 7 years ago

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Ok so this is really obscure, but I've had this idea for a while now, and I'd love to see you work with it? Headcanons for a time travel AU in which Peter Parker is messing with Stark Tech and gets sent back to the 1940s? He could work with Peggy Carter in the SSR to solve the case and pretend to be her little brother. Plus in 2017 Tony and Steve working together to get him back. If you think it's weird or want to skip it no worries! If not, then thank you so much, I love your headcanons!!

i love this concept so much you dont even know?? but also okay i realized abt halfway through these 2.5k+ words that this wasnt exactly what you asked for and i feel kinda bad about that but i hope you still like it all the same!! also i wanna say thank you for thinking of me for this prompt im super flattered????

- peter wasnt technically supposed to be in the 4th basement of stark tower

- technically he was on his lunch break and was supposed to be using said time to both eat and work on his spanish homework

- but he'd heard these whispers from a couple of the older interns about some of the old stuff that mr. stark had thrown down there because he never had time to finish them and peter had an idea

- see, he's been wanting to move up a bit, have mr. stark trust him a little more, and what's better then maybe taking one of his old designs and making it better and making it work

- so thats why he's in the fourth basement of stark tower, trying to remember if he's had his tetanus shot because some of this stuff is seriously Old

- and then he stumbles onto this little pyramid shaped....doohickey

- its the only thing in 4 floors of Things that doesnt have a label or a file or a crude drawing taped to the front of it so now peter is Officially Curious

- he kinda fiddles with it for a few minutes until his phone beeps with his 'hey pete youre gonna be super late getting back to work again' alarm and he about drops this thing on the floor because like everyday the alarm scares him to death

- but because hes clumsy and because hes pete he actually does drop it and everything goes black

- but everything's fine because he wakes right back up and he's pretty sure that he electrocuted himself but thats happened dozens of times so he picks himself up and brushes himself off and realizes that he may have been out longer than he thought because theres fewer boxes in the room than before and geez his head hurts

- "are you quite alright?"

- oh god he mustve hit his head harder than he thought because that looks like

- "m-miss carter, no sorry, ma'am? oh, oh god i'm so sorry that was so rude, agent? agent ma'am?"

- "this is howard's fault isnt it"

- "howard? as in....oh god oh god"

- "do you know where you are?"

- peter parker loved a lot of things and one of those things was museums and one of those museums in particular had an exhibit on a certain mr. rogers and adjacent to that exhibit was a small plaque about the woman standing in front of him and oh god he was going to hyperventilate and throw up in front of a literal legend and hero at the same time

- "remind me to kill him later. right now lets get you something warm to drink, yes? maybe some new clothes, youre looking a little singed"

- flash forward half an hour and he's sitting in front of the agent carter sipping at some terribly bitter coffee while she pursed and unpursed her lips a few times

- (annnnd time skip back to present day)

- friday: mr stark theres a woman downstairs beating on the door asking for youtony, 47 names going through his head: ...go on

- enter may parker, in her pjs, fire in her eyes, carrying on the legacy of brunette women ready to end a stark's life

- "it is ten o'clock on a school night, i've talked to ned, i've talked to mj and liz, i've talked to every corner sub shop owner, i even had a nice long chat with pepper, yet no one could tell me anything so you better have answers as to where my nephew is anthony"

- and in that moment, tony stark's life flashed before his eyes

- "hey, friday, where is the kid?"

- "peter's vitals havent been detected since 1:32pm on floor D"

- tony: fu-

- (back to pete and peggy)

- so he's quickly caught her up on the gist of whats going on (aka he told her he's from 2017 ny and hed really just like to go home) and she's taking it surprisingly well, all nodding and hmm-ing and cursing howard stark under her breath, kinda how may is when tony does like.. anything

- but now shes leading him through their super secret base and he's trying not to stare because, has he mentioned, hes literally standing next to peggy carter

- "right, well, here's your cot. if you need anything, dugan can help you. he's that one, there, with the cigar. you get some rest and i'll find howard and see if we cant get your...issue squared away. oh, and whatever you do, dont accept anything dernier tries to give you, you've already blown up once today, i dont think you can afford another"

- present day

- tony's been working through the night, a marginally-more-than-slightly disgruntled may beside him, and an even-more-than-marginally-more-than-slightly peeved happy beside her

- ("how do you lose a teenage boy, tony" happy moans to his phone when he wakes up and sees all the missed calls and texts he has)

- good news: it only took like 2 1/2 hours and three shots of espresson for tony to figure out what happened to peter

- bad news: it wasnt even a Tony Stark Exclusive Design, it was a Howard Stark One-Time Use That Was Actually A Malfunction Design, he'd had several more coffees that werent even close to being strong enough, and he had a growing black eye from the punch may landed before happy could pull her away and calm her down (maybe that last part should be in the good news column)

- "so he's just stuck in the 40s alone, then" may surmises, rubbing at the tension headache in her temples

- tony doesnt respond because at this point he needs his other eye for miracle working and depth perception

- "well, probably not alone," happy begins. "i catalogued everything in that level, and that stuff came from one of howard's london facilities, so it was probably calibrated for that time, so he's probably with-"

- tony: "hap, please dont finish that sentence"

- may: "1940s london. so he's with steve, then, safe. with captain america. okay, i can handle that."

- tony: "no, ah, a little later than capsicle, probably"

- may: "so not safe with captain america"

- happy: "safe with agent carter, more likely"

- pete and peggy

- good news: pete made it through the night without being blown up by the howling commandoes

- bad news: once howard was finally located and sobered up, he explained that he hadnt built that particular device yet, so peter was kinda stuck

- peter wasnt coping well

- "i have a spanish test tomorrow! and a trig test on friday! and i'm supposed to hang out with ned on saturday, and then may's gonna kill me when i dont show up for sunday dinner, and shes gonna kill me in general because i never checked in because holy shit i never checked in!"

- howard: peggy he's crying what do i do

- peggy: do i have to do everything myself

- she advances on peter and takes his chin in her hand, locking eyes with him: peter, you know who i am, dont you?

- he nods as best as he can

- "then you must know that i'm going to do everything in my power and then some to get you back home, dont you?"

- "yes ma'am"

- "good. go take a walk while i talk to howard, and if anyone asks, youre my american brother in for a short visit." and then she pats him on the cheek and his soul kinda ascends then and there because agent carter just patted him on the cheek AND gave him permission to tell people he's her brother

- so he goes to take his walk but the thing is when he gets anxious, he likes to fiddle with the loose legos he keeps under his bed, building and rebuilding tiny structures to help ease his nerves

- needless to say, he's an Absolute Nervous Wreck while he waits for some kind of something from peggy or howard and there arent any legos to keep him busy

- so he kind of takes that walk right on down to the lab and starts poking around because even if he is a certified nervous wreck he's also thr most inquisitive little shit that ever did walk the earth

- peggy finds him two hours later with a pair of loose fitting goggles on his forehead, his sweater sleeves pushed up to his elbows, and some . substance on his hands

- "please dont tell me youre somehow howard's long lost son too," she says, taking his appearance in

- he shakes his head as the beakers in front of him emit a puff of green smoke directly into his already scrunched up face "no ma'am; it's just that mr. stark kinda has me on desk duty and never lets me get my hands dirty so i like to take every oppurtunity i can get"

- she nods, "good, because howard needs you to describe what you remember of the device, and then you and i are going to begin the slog through the logistics of it all"

- "ooooookay"

- which is how peter parker ends up sitting across from peggy carter, the both of them scribbling extremely advanced mathematics onto yellowing sheets of paper as howard stark tinkered with some spare parts he had lying around as he tried to construct a crude rendering of the device

- peggy mostly doesnt talk, actually, she hasnt spoken since explaining that shed picked her math skills up on an assignment shed once had where she learned she actually loved numbers and then howard had been letting her do calculations for him in her free time

- peter was too impressed to respond bc from what he gathered she'd only been on that mission for six months and she didnt have much free time which meant she'd had to pick it all up FAST

- anyway, they got at that for hours, until peter cant keep his eyes open and even howard is dwindling; peggy waves them both off to bed but stays and keeps scribbling away

- they repeat that routine for 3 days

- on the 5th night, after she waves them off, peter goes to his cot and he tosses and turns for hours, listening to the commandoes play poker and crack jokes, but he cant sleep

- finally he gets up and just starts walking, anywhere his feet take him

- coincidentally, his feet take him past what he quickly realizes is peggy's room

- "peter why are you still up? is everything all right?" she asks, pulling off these big hulking glasses that made him incredibly homesick because she reminds him so much of may in that moment, big glasses on, hunched over a book in her lap, hair pulled back out of her face

- and he apologizes, but she Knows something's terribly wrong, so she gets up and ushers him away from her doorway, and leads him down a hall or two and then theyre standing in an open space, and she's looking at him like shes trying to solve one of her equations

- "do you know how to throw a punch, peter"

- " whatever youre thinking i dont think its a good idea we dont have any gear and i dont want to get hurt-"

- she shakes her head and asks again, and he finally answers with a kinda

- "'kinda' will get you hurt; watch me" and she begins to demonstrate a few slow punches and he follows her movements and tries to copy them but hes a little sloppy but its ok because she corrects him and finally theyre just standing beside one another counting out punches when she asks "whats on your mind"

- and he doesnt even hesitate he just lets loose everything, how much he misses may and how terrible he feels that he cant get in touch with her, how much he misses ned and mj and liz, how much he misses his fire escape and the deli on the corner and the buildings and then he's crying again, but she gracefully doesnt point it out

- once he's done spitting out everything thats bothering him she gets this kind of sad smile and says, "you remind me of a man i knew. he cared so much about his friends, sometimes to the point of not even worrying about himself, whuch meant he was always in some sort of trouble, as you can imagine. but he always found his way out of a problem, even if he was the one who created it." she laughs slightly then. "i guess what i'm getting at is even if i cant get you back home, even if howard cant, i believe that youll figure it out."

- "are you comparing me to captain anerica right now because i'm already crying and i dont think i can take much more" he says through sniffles, his arms slack by his sides now

- she smiles and nods, keeping her stance, and peter feels an overwhelming sense of gratitude for this amazing woman who immediately helped him without much of a pause and who's made sure he was okay for the past 5 days and who's up at god knows what time showing him how to throw a punch and being his borderline therapist and he just wants to give her something in return

- "im not sure if im supposed to do this, because for all i know it could tear a hole in the fabric of time and space but i really want to show you this," he begins, pulling his wallet put of his pocket.

- he flicks the little photo holders out and theres may, and theres ned and mj and liz, and theres that cat he found that one time, and theres him and tony, and there, at the bottom, is the time he officially met steve after the whole fight thing and all

- "this was taken a couple months ago; well, a couple months for me, it's decades from now, but here," and he holds out his wallet for her to see and she looks over the photo curiously before she understands and a tear slips down her cheek and she smiles the most grand smile

- "thank you, peter" and she passes the wallet back and puts her hand on his shoulder and says "i promise i'll have you home in time for sunday dinner"

- and she does

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sweetlifetownsville · 6 years ago

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To End The Year, A Mini-Magpie With A Mini Mystery.

Has mega-fraudster Craig Gore skipped Australia? And if so, why hasnt this been reported in the media especially since he is supposed to have made a midnight flit the very day after a judge refused to allow him to leave? In other matters, one has to admit that the Townsville Bulletin is consistent it has ended the year as it started, continuing its weekly Olympic-standard shambles. And Mongrel the Barrister has left us lawyer Mark Donnelly, the man who inspired a much loved Magpie character has passed away. and our final visit to Trumpistan for 2018. But first Its hard to keep a good man down, and our fav toonist Bentley is nothing if not a good man. Even in the holiday season, he casts his jaundiced eye over the news, and brings us a different and rib-tickling perspective. This week, he was much taken as most of us were with the drone drama at Gatwick Airport in the UK. A professional drone was reported in the airports approach and departure air space, and thousands of travellers were stuck when the whole shebang was shut down for a couple of days while the wallopers tried to go hi-tech and trace the source of the bastardry. Its not fully sorted yet, but Bentley thinks the drone may have already met its fate.

Why Arent All The Gore-y Details Available?

Will ye no come back agin, laddie? Now to our mini-mystery. On December 19, this report appeared in the Courier Mail. Judge denies disgraced former rich-lister Craig Gore request to travel overseas Vanessa Marsh, The Courier-Mail December 20, 2018 2:21pm A DISGRACED former rich-lister accused of ripping off almost $800,000 from investors has broken down in court after a judge refused his request to leave the country to visit family. Lawyers for alleged fraudster Craig Gore today launched an application in the Queensland District Court, seeking for the former businessmans bail conditions to be altered to allow him to travel to Sweden to visit his wife and children. But Judge Paul Smith denied the request, saying Gore faced a long time in prison if convicted and there was a real risk he would not return to Australia to face trial. Gore is facing 12 charges of fraud over allegations he swindled about $800,000 from self-managed super fund investors in 2013-14. He also faces three charges of managing companies while disqualified. Now that seems pretty definitive and eminently sensible. But The Magpie was informed two days later, by a regular contact and mate who has always been on the money in the past, that Gore went back to court the next day on another application, and had his passport returned so he could be with his family in Sweden at Christmas. He was to return in three months to face trial and possibility of a lengthy striped suntan. The Pies contact says Gore was on a flight out of Brisbane that night at 11pm, accompanied by a lawyer (that was apparently part of the arrangement) who will return with certain paperwork. Gore will be expected to make his own way back to face his fate in March. Yeah, right. Now all that is as it may be, BUT THIS SPECTACULAR REVERSAL OF A JUDGES IMPLACABLE DECISION HAS BEEN NEITHER EXPLAINED OR APPEARED IN THE MEDIA. Well, not that The Magpie can find, after days of searching to verify. If it is true, there will be a hell of a lot of very pissed off people Gores victims and the tireless investigators who nailed him who know just how long are the odds that we will ever see this shyster again. Shades of Skase!! Perhaps we will never know how this came about if it did come about because there will be a lofty judicial silence of unaccountability if he is a no show but surely the second hearing was an open court? Hard to fathom why it wasnt reported. Mongrel The Barrister Is No More The Magpies good mate Mark Sludge Donnelly the man who partially inspired the popular Magpie character Mongrel the Barrister, died in his family home in Cairns last weekend. It is fair to say that Mark was my best mate in the halcyon days of Portraits Bar in the Exchange Hotel all through the Noughties, the years when I was reporting court matters for the Bulletin. We were part of a memorable and disparate group, the bar crowded with our marvellously mixed group every Thursday, Friday and sometimes Saturday nights. (The fondly remembered Portraits became Poseurs Bar in the newspaper column and then in this blog.) Mark was universally known as Sludge, which he happily answered to, but never fully explained, even to me, its origins apparently it had something to do with a memorable comment from a lecturer or senior teacher suggesting Marks behaviour at that time some comparable to something from the bottom of a pond. Sludge was one of the wittiest people Ive known, and his memory was nothing short of astounding, not just for quoting legal precedents but in all things, particularly pop music. He always commandeered the music machine at parties, and was a pretty good DJ. He also had an eye for a well turned ankle, and his way of getting ladies to talk about themselves endeared him to more than one. Like many a member of the Portraits push, Mark liked a drink, and some believed he was a bit too enthusiastic in this direction. But I would say that rather than having a battle with the bottle, he just had frequent skirmishes with it, as we all did and any excess rarely affected his work at the other more sedate bar, where he often shone. Mark left Townsville when his father died, to live with his mother in the family home in Cairns. He didnt practice in Cairns, and went into virtual retirement, which was plagued by ill health for some time. He returned to Townsville annually for his birthday, but I lost touch in the past few years, for which I feel a bit miserable now. Sludge is now undoubtedly arguing the finer points about the Laws of Entry with St Peter for that is certainly where this witty, soft-hearted old friend of mine now is because we all know God loves a larrikin. Mark was 62. They Really Dont Understand Language at The Astonisher, Do They? And they even get the wrong WORD for a headlines. Even when theyre trying to make a pun, which kinda depends on the right word, yes? But we got a headline quoting some bizoid saying Townsville is bracing for a great 2018. Bracing for? Ahem. Youve managed to say EXACTLY THE OPPOSITE of what you meant. Heres the dictionary definition of bracing. verb[withobject] prepare (someone or oneself) forsomethingdifficult or unpleasant:both stations arebracingthemselvesforjoblosses|policeare braced fora trafficnightmare. So although this paper goes through life like a bouncing Hari Krishna whos visited the medicine cabinet once too often, giving us totally unquestioning, unexamined glop about our economy (usually from someone with a vested interest), it seem to have inadvertently hit on the truth here. However, the most tedious aspect of the paper of late is the dreary attempts at humour in headlines, particularly about crime, a subject no one in Townsville with the exception of you folks in Flinders Street, finds the least bit funny. AND EVEN THEN, LANGUAGE FAILS YOU let alone a sharp sense of humour.Take this major front page fail on Thursday.

Swindler? My dear headline writer, stay with me on this and read slowly, feel free to move your lips as you must. Now lets see, a swindler is someone who fiddles some unsuspecting victim out of something. That person would be called a fiddler, and if hidden in a ceiling, could be described as ta da a Fiddler In The Roof. You see, this would then coincide with the hit musical of the same name oh, how we would have all fallen about, clutching our sides in mirth, and holding your superior wit in such esteem!!! But swindler? Now weve just got a headache from smacking our foreheads yet again. And this one in simply NOT TRUE. This online

The actual number of people who said (or may have said, who knows, its probably a fiddled fantasy anyway) was 55% of the 700 or so people who responded to a totally uncontrolled survey. If there area 220,000 potential readers (ha! you wish) in the circulation area, the percentage is not even .5 of one percent. But we all know that the on-line edition is sloppy, so the paper itself will temper the outlandish claims, wont it? Errr no.

This is simply lying, and treating people like morons. And still they wonder But barely have we swallowed our anger before we start scratching our heads over weird genuinely weird stories like this, which would suggest that English isnt TEL boss Patricia OCallaghans first language, or she was suffering mild sunstroke when she was penned the media release from which the story was transcribed.

This story is selective twaddle certainly straight off an unedited media release from the Dudley Do Nothings, meaningless twaddle in which Ms OCallaghan specialises. It has often been said of her that she has the gift of the gab, and aint that the truth, just about all of what she has to say, in The Pies experience, is just that meaningless gabble that sounds good until it is more thoughtfully examined. Like this: The Museum of Underwater Art, located within the heart of The Great Barrier Reef, is a proposal based on the works of international sculpture and underwater artist Jason deCaires Taylor. Whats that bit located in the heart of the Great Barrier Reef? Has there been a Krakatoa-like geographic shift we havent noticed? The Underwater Museum, one of several planned along the coast, will be, at last report, just of Maggy Island, the GBR is a at least an hour or more away by fast cat . But in it goes to the story, with a newbie cub reporter just churning out this PR bumf. But wait, theres more. We then get this prize piece of meaningless gabble from the top executive charged with attracting and promoting tourism to Townsville: Its a project that is going to enhance the Great Barrier Reef experience and also educate visitors on how we manage and live with the reef everyday Ms OCallaghan said. That is absolute poppycock that is totally meaningless. And We? Bloody WE? FFS, girl, get a bloody grip. Insulting, uppity tripe from Ms OCallaghan and lazy, presumably unsupervised reporting (read: select all, copy and paste) by a very uncurious junior reporter (read: stenographer). Really, a monkey using scrabble board wouldve made more sense. The clusterfuck continues no wonder were so deep in the shit. Other matters As if golf didnt already have enough hazards.

Words of Wisdom From Two Funny Men

Frankie Boyle The cleverest quote of the week comes from the Scottish comedian Frankie Boyle in the Guardian. But first, his preamble touched a chord for The Magpie, who can vouch for it when Mr Boyle writes: The plight of the satirist, such as it is, is a compulsion to look at the grimmest, most important thing they can think of, and then for reasons that probably wouldnt survive a really good therapist, try to make it funny. To try to address the iniquities of their society, the satirist must manufacture some hope that what theyre doing might make a difference, then type it all up and send it off somewhere before they remember that it never does. Looking back over the events of this year is a bit like holding a doll for a therapist and pointing to where the bad man hurt you. Mr Boyles point is a universal one, which can be shared by Townsvilleans looking back over the past shambolic year. But his prize quote is so subtle, that you may have to think about for a while The Pie roared after a few seconds. The murder ofJamal Khashoggiby Saudi Arabia is another very difficult subject to find the lighter side of, unless someone in the Ecuadorean embassy has clipped the story out and stuck it to the fridge. (Sigh) Dear Mystified of Mysterton, it means that the Ecuadoreans might be giving their Wikileaks guest Julian Assange a hint.

Dave Barry The other funnyman worth a quote is the inimitable Dave Barry , the American columnist who talks about Florida the way The Magpie talks about Townsville only he is far funnier, proof being that The Magpie pinches more of his lines (many) than he does of The Magpies (none). This was his challenge to a graduating class, but it can just as well apply to the year 2019. How are you, Class, going to respond when the Clock-Radio of Challenge emits the Irritating Buzz of Opportunity? Are you going to roll over and hit the Snooze Button of Complacency? Or are you going to wake up and, after performing the Bodily Functions of Preparedness, boldly grasp the Toothbrush of Tomorrow? And no matter what you do in the coming year, make sure youre always politically correct, so no snowflakes will melt before your harsh words.

And So To This Week In Trumpistan First, compare Trump as Commander In Chief of real US soldiers, on his surprise visit to Iraq

Guess whos wondering if she packed the shampoo? with this.

And now to our final gallery of the year about the man Frankie Boyle described as this troll-doll King Lear, who looks like something youd pick off a baking tray after cooking pizza above it.

And Finally How The Hell ? The Pie has been occasionally upbraided for the use of naughty words in this blog well, one word in particular. He is aware that it can be confronting, but it is the other F word Frustration that compels him to sometimes resort to other for emphasis. Anyway, so what, if its good enough for Sesame Street, its good enough for The Pie. .. So that was the year that was, and what a rip-snorter we have coming up. Turns out this edition wasnt so mini after all. Comments run throughout the holiday break 24/7, so you dont have to wait to have your say. And the New Year will look even rosier for the old bird if you think the Nest is worth a small donation to keep it neat and tidy. The how to donate button is below. HAPPY NEW YEAR, YALL. http://www.townsvillemagpie.com.au/to-end-the-year-a-mini-magpie-with-a-mini-mystery/

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saintkimora · 7 years ago

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well here is how work was on saturday and sunday

so first is saturday! it was a pretty good day. i got like 3 credit cards i think. i actually dont remember much about it but i do remember that it was the day i officially realized i have a crush on one of my managers! his name is steve and he is REALLY cute and he has such a fun personality! and his hair looks really good and he has such a nice ass and hes nice to me even though i know hes only so nice bc the strategy for the managers here is to use positive reinforcement to motivate the workers. also him, my coworker juliet, and i were all talking about fruit in the break room and he literally asked “are grapes a fruit?” now THAT is a man

so i got in that day and i saw the other iconic manager sarah and she was talking to someone so when i came in she stopped and she was like “hi perry!” and then she turned to the person she was talking to and said “hes my favorite” which was nice. and then she was telling me about our goals for today and she was like we need these credit cards today so she told me to “go sprinkle my perry dust everywhere and get these cards” and thats exactly what i did at first! i got 2 v quickly but then i kinda flopped for the rest of the day so i felt bad about that but then i got one more towards the end. the store as a whole only got 4 credit cards that day and the only other one was from steve. so i was kinda happy bc even though we didnt reach our goal (the goal was like 11 i think) i still did relatively well compared to my coworkers

and also i got so many compliments on my shirt that day, from both my coworkers and the customers! and that made me v happy bc caleb told me all my clothes were ugly but here i am getting all these compliments from my coworkers and customers and even customers who arent even at my register! so i wonder who the one with bad taste really is. that reminds me steve also complimented me on my shirt that day which made me happy he was like “perry you are always killing it with these shirts” again i know as a manager he has ulterior motives for being so nice to me but idc it still feels good to have a man be nice to me again

speaking of caleb at one point i saw a customer and he literally looked just like caleb from behind so i thought it was really him and i almost had a heart attack like even after i realized it wasnt him i was still sooooooo nervous which was annoying bc i was hoping that he wouldnt have as much of an effect on me anymore but it seems im still kinda scared of him. and i have been getting kinda sad about him lately bc even though i know it wasnt entirely my fault that the relationship became what it did i cant help but think about all the things i did wrong and all the areas in which i fell short as a boyfriend that lead to him losing interest in me. thats also why i like work bc it keeps my mind occupied so i dont have to think about those things as much

anyways! during my breaks i did talk to my coworker juliet a little and it was so much fun!! and as i said earlier steve joined us at one point and we were all talking and it was really nice. and at one point juliet asked me if i liked milk and i was like no and she actually set me up bc steve got like mad about it bc he really likes milk apparently hes so cute lol

and now for sunday! i only worked like 4 hours and 45 minutes that day. BUT i got 5 credit cards!!!! and the store as a whole only got 7! nut. the other 2 were from my coworker yolemny who was kinda cold to me that day but she seemed to be in a bad mood in general so i didnt take it personally. but i was so MAD bc this one girl was gonna sign up for a card but she didnt have her id on her and if she did i would have gotten 6 cards which wouldve been a personal best for me

i was still happy about it though, like i got the first 4 in my first 2 hours and during the hourly updates over the walkies nicole (another one of the managers) was like “perry got 4 cards so far and hes only been here 2 hours so he is showing that it can be done. so we need everyone to keep pushing these cards” and honestly it was iconic bc at one point yolemny was on the register next to me and we were literally getting back to back cards together! and for the other hourly updates steve would refer to me as the man on fire since i was getting so many cards

like it really makes me happy when the managers praise me so much. like i know these managers probably dont actually like me and are just being so nice bc its part of their strategy to keep me happy and motivated so i keep getting cards for them. but still, it feels nice to actually be good at something for once since ive been sucking at everything ive tried to do for like the past year. and even if their kindness isnt genuine it still makes me feel accepted which is greatly appreciated since ive felt so alone for pretty much the past year and a half (excluding the 2 months where my relationship w caleb was good). so yeah i really like this job and i like the managers and my coworkers and i like feeling useful and important to someone again, even if its just because im good at getting people to apply for credit cards. so yeah i actually look forward to work now bc i get to be good at something and i get to see steve and i get to talk to my coworkers!

so thats pretty much it. i dont have work again until friday. i do have a meeting w my therapist tm so that will be fun. i might finally be going out w the new grindr guy this week too, but ive kinda already given up on that bc i dont really know how to talk to him and im 99% sure hes not gonna like me that much, but if anything at least itll get me out of the house for a few hours. i am also gonna start going to my schools gym! im gonna schedule an appointment to have like an “orientation” tour type thing where someone shows you how to do everything since i have no idea how to work out. im really nervous about it but i might be able to get danielle to go with me that way i dont have to do it alone so if she goes it could be fun! its just bc i want something to do since i still have way too much free time for my liking. and i might as well try to get more fit that way i can look better in all the cute clothes i want and hopefully find a man easier. so thats my plan for the week!

#personal

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allofbeercom · 6 years ago

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Fun and Games – the inside track on Rio de Janeiro

Five insiders reveal how to run with the locals in the Olympics host city a spectacular tropical metropolis with great beaches, music, views and food

If the Olympic movement is having a hard time of it, consider the year the host city is having. In the build-up to the 2016 Games, Brazil is sinking under a tickertape parade of bad news. Given stories of polluted water, gang and police violence, an economy in freefall, the Zika virus, terror attacks and a president impeached, the reports of unfinished infrastructure for the Games almost pale into insignificance.

The Rio de Janeiro area

Lovely Rio, its easy to imagine, might just think twice given the chance to bid for the Olympics again. And yet, despite everything, the metropolis remains arguably the most beautiful city in the Americas, if not the world: whatever might happen in the sporting arenas, the Olympics has never had a backdrop as stunning as this.

The view over Rio from the Vista Chinesa. Photograph: Alamy

And despite all their worries, most cariocas, as Rios residents are known, are proud of their amazing city. As they prepare to welcome half a million visitors to the Games, we asked five insiders to talk us through the best of their tropical seaside home.

Eating out

Rafael Costa e Silva, chef-proprietor at Lasai, one of the citys five Michelin-starred restaurants

Rafael Costa e Silva Photograph: Claire Rigby

So Paulo has more options than Rio in terms of cuisine, but we outshine them when it comes to avant garde, contemporary local food. As well as Lasai, we have Olympe, owned by the chef who pioneered the fusion of Brazilian and French cuisines; Roberta Sudbrack, with a bistro feel and sophisticated, eight-course tasting menu. Also Oro, which reopened in Leblon recently, is extremely creative.

Were closed on Sundays and Mondays, so those are the nights we can get out to eat. For special occasions, we love Olympe; but we often go to Azumi (on Facebook), a Japanese restaurant in Copacabana. The broths, the udon and the soba there are great (12-21).

Bar Urca looks out over Guanabara Bay.

Bar Urca is a Rio classic highly recommended for visitors. The food isnt the greatest, but you go there for the ambience to meet friends and drink beer sitting on the wall outside, looking out over Guanabara Bay.

Theres a restaurant in Centro, the old commercial heart of Rio, where I dont go as often as Id like, but that I love Escondidinho (on Facebook). My dad used to go when he was young, I go there sometimes, and probably my son will go too. Its a traditional lunchtime restaurant going since the 1940s and known for its beef ribs in broth, with fried cassava and watercress (32, serves two or more). The meat starts to fall off the bone before youve even picked up your knife and fork.

We have a culture of botecos, classic neighbourhood bars where you grab a beer and a snack say a pastel (a small meat or cheese pie) or a coxinha (chicken-and-cassava fritter). Theres a great one in Praa da Bandeira (in north Rio, very near the Maracan stadium, which will stage the Games opening ceremony) called Aconchego Carioca that does all our national dishes and snacks very well indeed.

Aconchego Carioca in Praa da Bandeira

A more rustic, classic boteco is Bar da Gema in Andara. They do fried polenta with oxtail stew on top (10), and you eat it with your hands. Its amazing. They also serve pastel de feijo gordo (1.50), little pies filled with feijoada black-bean stew, our national dish. They are so good I could eat about 10 of them.

Brazil isnt so strong on street food, but the Saturday morning farmers market in Jardim Botnico, on Rua Frei Leandro, opposite Olympe restaurant, does a great tapioca, a kind of cassava pancake. It serves up a version with cheese, tomato, onions and oregano, using a cheese called queijo minas meia-cura, whichmelts perfectly when it hits the griddle.

Bars and nightlife

Alice Guedes, bartender at Brigites, a bistro in Leblon. She has twice finished in the top 10 in Brazils best bartender competition

Alice Guedes at Brigites. Photograph: Claire Rigby

Musically, Rio is incredibly rich its often music that gets people out at night. Monday is outdoor samba night at Pedra do Sal, in Largo Joo da Baiana, 10 minutes walk from the new Museum of Tomorrow (which is definitely worth a visit). Musicians go straight there to play after they get off work, from about 7pm. They play old-school, very traditional samba. Take a taxi if you dont know this area.

Samba dancers at Pedra do Sal. Photograph: Mario Tama/Getty Images

And on Wednesday nights at Praa Tiradentes theres a jazz scene in the middle of the square, just people hanging out and playing and listening to jazz. Its free. They just turn up and start playing, and if you get there at about 9pm, its generally in full swing. Cariocas are experts at making something happen out of nothing.

Praa So Salvador in Laranjeiras is another one: on Friday nights, the square gets packed with hundreds of people getting together in the open air, and guys selling beer from ice boxes. Everyone loves it.

Mixing is a kind of speakeasy in Rio Comprido, between Centro and Tijuca. During the day its a school of mixology, but on certain nights it transforms into a bar. Youd never guess it was there from the outside you go through a garage, up some stairs and along a corridor and there it is.

Traditionally, Rio has always been about caipirinhas and chope (light draft beer) but theres a growing cocktail culture. The challenge for Rio bartenders is to convince cariocas to go for drier, more complex drinks as they tend to veer towards sweetness. Bar DHotel, inside Marina All-Suites, has one of the best drinks menus in Rio; another is the new Bar Astor inside the Astor hotel, on the Ipanema seafront. Theyve brought high-level So Paulo-style mixology to Rio, which I love.

In Rio, music on the street is enough to get the party started. Photograph: Felipe Dana/AP

The new Atlntico Rio de Janeiro in Barra da Tijuca is one of the most Rio-spirited bars I can think of, though its owner isnt even Brazilian. Tato Giovannoni came from Buenos Aires, where he owns the bar Floreria Atlntico, and just did something different created a really good beach bar with amazing cocktails and fresh seafood.

He makes a dry martini with a tincture of sea salt, right there on the beach, and serves oysters at about 1 each. Theyre also doing a pop-up bar during the Olympics, at Clubhouse Rio.

For me, the best saideira (nightcap) is at Galeto Sats , open till late in Copacabana. Lots of bartenders and chefs go there after work for beer and grilled chicken. Its a tiny, old-fashioned joint where people spill on to the pavement. My order is a shot of good cachaa and a plate of grilled chicken hearts.

History and culture

Luiza Mello, art producer, Automatica, which produces the annual art event Travessias in the Complexo da Mar favela in north Rio

Luiza Mello. Photograph: Claire Rigby

A place I love to take visitors is Instituto Moreira Salles. Its a wonderful example of modernist Brazilian architecture, with gardens by Roberto Burle Marx and a beautiful panel by Cndido Portinari, facing the pond. It was once the home of a very wealthy family, but today its a cultural institution with an impeccable programme they hold great exhibitions, plus theres a photo collection, a music collection and a photography magazine.

Parque Lage is always good another very beautiful place, home to the EAV School of Visual Arts, with an interesting gallery in the former stables, called Galeria das Cavalarias.

Young people contemplate leaping into the sea by the Museum of Tomorrow Photograph: Alamy

Culturally, Rios downtown area, Centro, just gets more and more interesting. There is a great area around Praa XV, with art galleries, cinema and theatre in the Centro Cultural Banco do Brasil ; the former imperial palace Pao Imperial, which is one of the citys most historic buildings and now a cultural centre; and the Casa Frana-Brasil, a contemporary art space in Rios oldest neoclassical building. The Candelria and Carmo churches are also both worth seeing.

An exhibition by veteran Japanese artist Yayoi Kusama at the Centro Cultural Banco do Brasil. Photograph: Yasuyoshi Chiba/AFP/Getty Images

Centro has another cultural hub now: Porto Maravilha, Rios regenerated port district, with the MAR Museum of Art and theMuseum of Tomorrow. Close to that but less well-known is Cais do Valongo, the archaeological site of Rios former shipping wharf, where hundreds of thousands of the slaves brought to Brazil came ashore. Theres also the Galeria dos Pretos Novos, an art gallery, and part of a memorial complex on the site of an ancient slave cemetery.

Pao Imperial on the Praca Quinze de Novembro. Photograph: Alamy

Pedra do Sal is another historic site in the area, where there was once a quilombo, a community of former slaves and their descendants. Its just behind the MAR, and a very interesting place to visit.

Beaches and nature

Nicole Casares, blogger, Cariocando no Rio. She runs tours of some of her favourite places, booked via her site

Nicole Casares at Parque Lage. Photograph: Camila Neves

Rio is full of quiet spots from which to observe the citys curves, the contours of the hills and the green vegetation against the ocean. There are lovely parks, such as Parque Lage and the Jardim Botnico, and even the gigantic tropical rainforest, Floresta da Tijuca invades the city limits. Or just being in the sea is a peaceful experience.

Palm tree avenue at the Jardim Botnico Photograph: Alamy

If you only go to one beach, Id recommend Ipanema, at Posto 10 (postos are the beaches demarcation points and come every kilometre). Its one of the safest parts of the beach, and it attracts a lot of young, cool people. Theres a good place just across the road for lunch called Balada Mix, with great sandwiches and juices, including aai. Arpoador, a headland between Copacabana and Ipanema, is special too you have to see it at sunset, when people climb on to the rocks to look right down Ipanema beach to the sun setting behind the Dois Irmos peaks.

Surfers on Prainha beach, Barra da Tijuca. Photograph: Alamy

I also like the long beaches to the west: at Barra da Tijuca and also Praia da Joatinga, where the water is a beautiful green colour and there are no crowds. To reach it, you follow a steep trail down on to the sand. Some of Rios very best beaches are even further west, on the very edge of the city, like Praia do Secreto and Prainha.

Because of all the mountains dotted around, Rio must have the most spectacular views of any city in the world. My all-time favourite view is from Mirante Dona Marta. Its breathtaking you can see Sugarloaf Mountain below, with the sea all around it, the boats in Botafogo harbour and all the way across Guanabara Bay to Niteri. And in the other direction you can see Christ the Redeemer close up.

Rio must have the most spectacular views of any city in the world. This view is of Sao Conrado beach and the Rocinha favela. Photograph: Alamy

This unique topography means you can also hike and climb within the city. Of Rios best-known hikes, Dois Irmos is light to moderate, about 45 minutes climb from the top of Vidigal favela (which is safe to visit). You can take a van to the foot of the trail, or a motorbike taxi. Or inside Parque Nacional da Tijuca, Pedra Bonita is a nice, easy walk, about 40-45 minutes. Its steep, but if you take it slowly, its fine, and the view are similar to those from the top of Pedra da Gvea, which is a far harder climb.

One of my favourite, lesser-known trails is the Trilha do Morro da Babilnia. Its really easy only 30 or 40 minutes and has great views of Praia Vermelha beach and Po de Aucar. You start at Ladeira Ary Barroso in Leme, and walk up into Chapu Mangueira favela. Guides from Coop Babilnia, a residents cooperative, will take you up the trail for about 14. Its best to go early in the day, and make sure to be out of the community before evening.

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from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/fun-and-games-the-inside-track-on-rio-de-janeiro/

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undead-gorezilla · 7 years ago

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Saturday 4th November - 11:15pm

Evergone is out tonight partying and I have work tomorrow morning, and im grounded... i get no days to sleep in anymore and its a pisstake, my life is falling apart rn and idl what to do. Lowkey probs gonna kill myself in the next 5 years. Life is long and im just trynna have fun so why tf am i in bed at 11:17pm on a saturday night knowing I have to be awake at 7am the next morning? Im getting paid but I have no free time to spend that money on shit. Im probably gonna get kicked out of college, my parents cant wait to kick me out, because i have work on weekends i have to have motives during the week but only to be home at 10. The weekend of my 18th is needing to be live and my parents will probably cancel it... i need to have FAT motives Friday 1st December & Saturday 2nd December idec. Im slyly getting bored of weed but ill never leave it. Im due a fat party where i can smoke, drink, do loons, snort ket and just have an amazing time. I wanna see the girl im talking to bad as well but she is long away. My depression is v active atm and its annoying.. i dont wanna take antidepressants, i wanna be happy, my life has been difficult since day one. I might aswell give up and live on a council estate where i rass it and try to have fun at a job that pays enough for me to be able to live happily. Music is nowhere with me atm, i wish i was talented enough so i could start mashing it now. But i might just have to start shotting on the side so i can get more money. More work = less free time + more money. Would trade sm to be properly happy. Too many reminders of the past. I wish to be left alone by the pagans and wish to be wanted and appreciated more by my friends. I dont have a proper family and it sucks and i feel more lonely and i wish i was never adopted and i wish i was dead. I dont wanna work tomorrow. My bed is very comfy and my feet hurt and i wanna stay up longer but im so comfy and so tired from today. Wish i didnt have maths at college, life would be a little better then, free day wednesday, sleep in monday. Fuck. That would be nice.. need my girl here to cuddle. By my girl i mean my ex. The new girl is great. But no one can beat my ex, she was the one.. i hope someone is staying up late at night reading this.. else wtf am i doing? Im in need of loyal people in my life that wanna be friends with me and can handle me and can help me. I love the people who care. I feel like shit and like i never wanna leave the bed again. I feel numb and depressed. The world is shit. WorldK. I miss my bestfriend, he hasnt been talking to me much and ive been told he isnt coming to my 18th but i need him there. @yungmondai you better be there, youre my bro. Someone call me? Idk. I love the girl im talking to now. But it just isnt the same and i feel terrible, ik she likes me and i like her too. But my ex wont leave my mind. Idk how im supposed to move on without using someone. I feel like doing cute shit with this girl will make me cry. But i really want to because i really really like her. My ex needs to fuck off out my thoughts so i can be happier. Sorry. 11:40pm

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capnmarvell · 8 years ago

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Drama is going on in my family again. Feel free to read more to find out.

Friday Night/Saturday Morning (between 11pm - 2:30am):

My sister Cassie, who moved into neighbor Stacey’s house almost 2 years ago bc her ex husband was threatening to take the kids away from her if she lived with me and my parents bc my parents smoke weed (even tho he smokes weed and is an alcoholic), got the police called on her. Her roommate Stacey did the calling. Stacey previously told Cassie she needs to leave by March bc shes hella overstayed her welcome. Cassie got drunk this night and started banging on the walls, yelling at Stacey saying she was gonna have to take her and her kids to a homeless shelter bc she was being evicted. She then locked stacey outside and was aparently trying to get into staceys kids room. Stacey called the police. Stacey left with her kids and their dogs while Cassie trashed their entire house and passed out drunk.

Saturday afternoon (between 1pm - 5pm):

My sisters, Tiffany and Tonya, get called over to talk to Cassie. Stacey says officially, Cassie is no loner welcome in her home (yet this little meeting with cassie was held in her home???? ok). My sister Tiffany, who was like cassie’s best friend before she moved in with stacey, told her that she has been cutting off her family slowly for the last 2 years. that they were best friends and as soon as she moved in with stacey she just cut tiffany off, and if cassie had any idea how she made tiffany feel. and tonya pointed out that cassie obviously was having a mental breakdown and she was depressed and that she needed to get help if she wanted to keep custody of her kids. During this entire thing, STACEY KEPT TRYING TO BUTT IN. Tiffany was getting so annoyed like “bitch we are talking to ur sister you are not involved”

Kids are at our neighbor shannon’s during this. Cassie leaves to go to friend from her church (i am convinced its a cult bc as soon as she started going with stacey to this church she cut off her family. who else encourages you to cut off your family???? A FUCKING CULT.) and then, INSTEAD of calling their dad, or asking Tiffany, or Tonya, OR MY FUCKING PARENTS ACROSS THE STREET, another person from the church came and took the children. Uh???? wtf???

Sunday:

We hear nothing from them. All we know from tiffany and Tonya is that Cassie was supposed to be taken to the hospital this day (instead of saturday for whatever reason????). Cassie is ON facebook so if shes at the hospital, but she hasnt checked in bc when you check into psych they take your phone (i know, i stayed in psych for 4 days). Cassie finally comments on my fb status and says “kids are at a friends for a superbowl sleepover”. wow thanks that calms my and moms nerves. what friends???? their best friends are on this street and we havent seen them.

Monday (between 3pm - 3:30pm):

So mom and i are freaking out about the kids. where the fuck are they? who has them? they’re not with family, they’re not with their dad. I go to the bus stop to see if they get off. They do, and i tell them they are coming to our house and i’ll get their baby brother too. I send a message to stacey and say “the kids are with their family. if you have Filip send him over. When their mom or dad comes to get them, they can leave.” because we have more fucking rights to these kids than she does. What fucking nerve does she have, saying shes a christian woman and wanting to do the right thing always, to not even come to OUR HOUSE ACROSS THE STREET to tell us what the fuck is going on. so i have the kids at my house, not the baby though, and im feeding them an after school snack, and they’re starting their homework with the help of my parents. HERE COMES STACEY.

She tries to come inside i block her. she says i had no right to pick up the kids. i tell her we are the kids family, we have more right than her. we want to help them and ever since stacey came into the picture cassie has cut us off and kept her kids from us. and i even say that shes throwing cassie out! why is she even involved anymore??? and she started crying and yelling saying that i dont know anything and that cassie locked her out and scared stacey’s children and she had to do that (meanwhile STACEY HAS SINCE SENT HER KIDS TO HER EX-HUSBANDS FULL TIME EVEN THO SHES KICKING CASSIE OUT??? AND SHES STILL BUTTING INTO CASSIES LIFE. YOUR KIDS COME FIRST BUT IF ITS CASSIE I GUESS THEY COME LAST) and im like “save it okay i dont need your sob story. youre kicking cassie out and we want to be here for her. these kids are leaving with cassie or their dad” and staceys crying, shes like ‘their dad beat cassie, we cant let them have the kids” and i go “and cassie knows we want to help her with that” and she goes “YOURE THE REASON CPS WILL BE CALLED. THEIR ARE DRUGS IN YOUR HOUSE. YOUR THE CRAZY HOUSE.” and i go “MIKE SMOKES FUCKING WEED AND HES AN ALCOHOLIC, JUST LIKE CASSIE IS NOW. WEED DIDNT BOTHER YOU OR CASSIE WHEN CASSIE NEEDED A FUCKING BABYSITTER ONCE A WEEK SO YOU AND HER COULD GO TO YOUR CULT CHURCH.”

and she goes “taylor remember when you were mad at cassie and i was on your side, i need you to be on our side now and understand,” and i was just like “shut the fuck up. she cut off her entire family and no one came and told us where these kids were, you want to keep them from us. we want to help cassie bc thats what family does”

and shes like “my church is helping her. We are getting her a house, and a car,” (wow hmm a house and car so cassie is even more debt to your cult church hmmm BESIDES WHO THE FUCK at this church is buying my sister a fucking house? when has a chuch EVER fucking done this???) and i just go “yall are not family your not safe. why did my nephew tell me you hit him??? why???” and she tries to shout past me to my nephew, asking him when the last him she “spanked” him was. i was like “i am NOT letting these kids leave with you. When cassie comes and gets them they can leave. they dont want to leave with you.”

then my dad proceeds to come over and tells her to get the fuck off our property. I come back inside and my nephew looks at me and goes “thank you for making her leave.” HE SAYS SHE HITS HIM. AND HES GRATEFUL SHE ISNT THERE AND THAT I DIDNT LET HIM LEAVE WITH HER. THIS SPARKS MAJOR CONCERN.

My sister cassie then comes in 5 minutes later, no knock, and says not 1 word to me, mom, or dad. she tells the kids to pack up their stuff and they’re leaving. Kids are physically upset, saying they dont want to, that they want to eat dinner with us, cassie tells them another time and quickly ushers them out.

Monday (10pm):

My neighbor shannon texts me, says she spoke to the kids dad, my sisters ex husband. He explained hes been worried about the kids and wants to know whats going on. Shannon texts him what i told her about the stacey interaction and he says hes going to go to the kids school tomorrow for lunch and ask them whats going on. Cassie has no permanent residence, and thanks to stacey getting to a screaming match in my doorway, the kids hear everything about the cops being called on their mom, and stacey throwing them out. Kids will at least definitely tell him they’ve been having “sleepovers” since saturday with different members of their cult church and hasnt slept overnight with their mom in the house since coming home from their dads house.

So whatever the hell is gonna happen, the ex-husband is now involved. and when cassie does eventually lose custody of those kids, bc she doesnt have a permanent home, she didnt go to work today so she probably lost her job (she works with my mom at a hospital and my mom was told if she misses again she might get fired), and she has no car. meanwhile he ex has a home, running a business and looking to open another, has a car, and is dating an actually really lovely woman who has 2 kids of her own. Her ex is a shithead, but she brought this on herself. she cut off her entire family and no one is gonna be here to help her when this cult church decides they dont want her anymore. she cut us off, its been decided today we’ll cut her off right back. we’ll only be there for the kids.

#personal #this has been one hell of a weekend

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viralhottopics · 8 years ago

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A morning with ‘adorable deplorables’: why Trump supporters are optimistic

On a bus bound for the inauguration in Washington, backers of the new president explain their views: He isnt putting people down

On the bus, in the morning darkness, Steph and Brandi put on their makeup, using a phone as a mirror.

Stephanie Friess and Brandi Tillman have been friends since high school, and now they were on their way from Wilmington, Delaware, to Washington to celebrate the man who had given them a brand new country.

On election night, Steph stayed up past 3am to see Trumps victory being announced. The next morning, remembering the night before while driving her car, the 24-year-old felt jubilant to be living in Trumps America.

The two women made matching Trump caps blue and black decorated with sequins and the slogan Adorable Deplorable in honor of the inauguration. Hillary Clinton had tried to attack Trump for lifting up the most deplorable among his followers: the racist, sexist, homophobic, xenophobic, Islamaphobic you name it. Trumps followers had proudly reclaimed the term, and now Brandi and Steph bedazzled it.

Two friends on an early bus to Trumps inauguration apply their makeup. Photograph: Lois Beckett for the Guardian

On Saturday, hundreds of thousands of women will be marching in Washington in protest of Trumps presidency in a demonstration called the Womens March.

While large majorities of black and Latina women voted against Trump and for Hillary Clinton, white women didnt. Brandi and Steph are part of the majority: early exit polls showed that 53% of white women voted for Trump, including 45% of women with college degrees.

The two women, both college students, were not entirely convinced by Donald Trump at first. But, Steph said, he definitely grows on you. Both friends say they appreciate Trumps bluntness, his toughness, his lack of greed, and what seems like a genuine love for America.

He wants everyone to be successful, Stephanie said. He isnt putting people down.

Brandi liked Mitt Romney, but he wasnt strong enough, the 25-year-old said. He wasnt empowering us enough. He plays that innocent politician role that all politicians play. Trump doesnt do that.

A cake cant be racist

On the bus to Washington, many of the womens fellow white Trump supporters expressed frustration at constantly being labeled racist. It was a term, some argued, that liberals just threw around whenever they were losing an argument.

A local bakery in Pennsylvania had just produced tiny hat-shaped Make America Great Again cakes in honor of the inauguration, and a short post about the themed cakes on Facebook had sparked a long debate, with some commenters labelling the bakery racist, or saying they would not longer patronize it. Why not a grab em by the p*ssy cake? one commenter asked. Or a deport all immigrants cake?

Laura Ann bought two Make America Great Again cakes. Photograph: Lois Beckett for the Guardian

The bus supporters were indignant. They had won. It was supposed to be a day to celebrate. And yet the news was full of protests and threatened disruption, and even a bakery making an inauguration dessert had somehow become divisive.

A cake cant be racist, Dave DeFries, a longtime Trump supporter from Delaware County, Pennsylvania, said in exasperation.

In the seat behind Brandi and Steph, Laura Ann, 34, who asked that her last name not be used, had bought two of them. She sliced them and handed them out. The cake was moist, the frosting tasting faintly of marshmallow.

Laura Ann had voted for Obama twice. She worked in healthcare, and had wanted the president to fix the health insurance system. He had failed. She was still kicking herself for voting for him. As a gun owner with several AR-15 rifles she found them light and easy to handle as a female shooter she had also been frustrated by the constant attacks on the so-called assault rifle.

Id really like to see [Trump] help the inner cities more, she said. She thought Ben Carson, who grew up in Detroit and went on to become a surgeon, would be a great force in helping urban America.

Eileen, at 46, had cast her first ballot ever for Trump. I want the jobs to come back to America, she said. Her brother, a systems analyst, had lost his job to workers in India and had been forced to personally train the Indian worker who was taking his place, under threat of losing his pension.

Eileen also felt Obama had failed to bring insurance companies in line to bring healthcare costs down. Worried that her high school friends who voted for Clinton would attack her, she asked not to publish her last name.

Many of the supporters said they had never been politically involved before Trump ran for president. Several had voted for Obama at least once. Some of the new activists said they were amazed by the energy of Trumps movement. It doesnt seem like a political environment, Dave Ennis said. It seems like were going to a football game.

Some said that their friends or family were worried that something might happen on inauguration day, that the protests might make DC dangerous. One man mentioned that he had seen a video produced by the conservative provocateur James OKeefe about activists discussing a plan to throw acid on Trump supporters.

Its like, I get it, I get it, slavery was bad. I didnt do it

At the back of the bus, Dave sat opposite his wife and 16 year-old son, Brian, who he called a liberal snowflake. The two of them argued constantly, the father said, especially about Black Lives Matter.

Brian said he believed that the Black Lives Matter protesters and the Boston Tea Party rebels were identical except for their race. Protesters had to be loud to make themselves noticed. His father was more skeptical that black Americans were being unfairly victimized. His own interactions with the police when he was younger had taught him that when people chose a certain lifestyle, the police would target them and there was nothing wrong with that.

Inauguration buttons on sale in Washington DC on Friday. Photograph: Lois Beckett for the Guardian

Brandi and Steph said that felt that racism toward black Americans had been given a disproportionate platform compared with other kinds of racism. They disapproved of Obama supporting the Black Lives Matter movement, which they saw as racist.

Why is it Black Lives Matter, not all lives? Stephanie asked.

I just dont think most cops are out to get black people, Brandi replied.

The media blows a lot of this out of proportion, Stephanie said.

I didnt think its bad that we had a first black president. Thats not bad. Thats great, Brandi opined. But Obama should not have been elected to a second term. I think his color had a lot to do with that.

In school, Brandi said, some black girls had bullied her, and when she complained, my teacher told me to grow a thicker skin.

Asked about the systemic inequality black Americans face in the criminal justice system, or in education Brandi said that, because shes been living in Delaware, a relatively liberal state, maybe I havent seen that as much.

I, like, see the opposite. Black people get free college, she said. My moms a single mom. Im not white privileged, and Im sick of being told I am.

Both said that felt they had grown up and gone to school while constantly being told things trying to make us feel bad for being white. Slavery was a topic of discussion again and again, the schools focused on black authors, its always black history month.

Its like, I get it, I get it, slavery was bad. I didnt do it, Brandi said.

Brandi said she felt bad for her other minority friends Hispanic, Asian, Indian who also faced racism, but seemed to get less attention. Her Indian American friends faced job discrimination, she believed, by people who might not think they fit the look they wanted, or who bought into the stereotype that they might be terrorists.

Im a little bit worried about the tweeting

Both friends also had some concerns about Trump. Stephanie didnt believe for a long time that Trump could really pull off a presidential demeanor. Thats why she thought Clinton would win. Brandi said she did not believe new environmental protections should be rolled back, and her stepmother had serious concerns about Trumps pick for education secretary, Betsy DeVos, a billionaire philanthropist and school choice advocate whose understanding of basic educational concepts and laws came under question during her confirmation hearing. I know teachers arent very happy about that, she said.

Brandi Tillman, 25, and Stephanie Friess, 24, display their homemade Adorable Deplorable hats on the way to Trumps inauguration. Photograph: Lois Beckett for the Guardian

Im a little bit worried about the tweeting, Brandi added. She was concerned, she said, that he might say something

That he cant take back, Steph broke in.

But for the most part, the two friends were optimistic that Trump would tackle the economy, create jobs, address cyber-attacks, and make America stronger. Brandi, who was waitressing as she went through college, said: Id like to see more money. Id like to see more tips.

Neither of the friends had been concerned about his comments about grabbing women by the pussy. That was 10 years ago, and people change, Brandi said.

Brandi said if a famous billionaire had tried to grope her, she would have sued immediately, not stayed silent for years until the man ran for president. Damn straight, if someone gropes me, I would want to sue, she said. Steph disagreed. She probably would have stayed quiet, she said.

A Belgian journalist who was also on the bus then took his turn and interviewed the two women about their support for Trump, and asked them to comment on the fears many Americans have about the coming months.

Brandi said her faith as a Christian kept her from being too anxious, and that Americans should calm down. Trump, after all, was just the president.

Hes not God. Hes not Hitler. Its not the end of the world, she said.