#men need to have chips in their brains that gives them electric shocks if they speak for more than 20 seconds at once

[daisyrella]

dude in my class who always goes on tangents to hear his own voice literally just said "the microcosm of aliveness and tangibility" .... about a pond. a big puddle.

[phantoms-lair]

Serious Freakzoid thing (Freaking Out) Part 3

It was a familiar chiptune that woke Dexter up, one he had set to play when his custom GUI loaded. He forced his eyes open and realized he was one the floor. What was he doing there? 

Seeing the side of his computer opened jogged his memory of the Pinnacle Chip going nuts. Or did it? The computer was functioning perfectly now, humming quietly along with the screen. He looked at the hand where he'd grabbed the chip and saw no sign of the massive electrical burn that would have had to be there. 

An electrical burn is a burn that results from electricity passing through the body causing rapid injury. Approximately 1,000 deaths per year due to electrical injuries are reported in the United States, with a mortality rate of 3-5%.[1] Electrical burns differ from thermal or chemical burns in that they cause much more subdermal damage.[2] They can exclusively cause surface damage, but more often tissues deeper underneath the skin have been severely damaged. As a result, electrical burns are difficult to accurately diagnose, and many people underestimate the severity of their burn. In extreme cases, electricity can cause shock to the brain, strain to the heart, and injury to other organs.[3] 

What....? Dexter shook his head, trying to figure out where that had come from. 

He shook his head and Mr. Chubbikins meowed and rubbed against him. Dexter reached to pet him when a strange feeling shot through his head.

Pheomelamine is the pigment responsible for the ginger color in cats. 

A huge 80% of all ginger cats are male

♪ Cat *wink* I’m a kitty cat. And I dance dance dance. And I dance dance dance ♪

Words and images flooded his head and all of a sudden it was hard to think, to focus. He saw Mr. Chubbikins and for a moment didn’t recognize him as his beloved pet, but simply a cute cat.

“Kitty Kitty Kitty,” he cooed in a tone that wasn’t like him at all. It was certainly enough to scare off Mr. Chubbykins, who nyoomed under the bed. The disappointment of the moment was enough to bring him to his senses.

He turned on his heels and ran to the bathroom. He examined himself in the mirror, trying to see if there was something wrong with his head or eyes. He ran through the Stroke checklist, but passed the standard tests. “Am I just going insane?” he muttered to himself. “Next I’ll be seeing little blue men.”

As he said this he felt a gentle buzzing on his skin. Looking down he saw a wave of electricity passing him over, leaving his skin blue in its wake. He whimpered, his mind trying to wrap around what he was seeing, What on Earth could turn his skin blue?

Cyanosis refers to a bluish cast to the skin and mucous membranes. Peripheral cyanosis is when there is a bluish discoloration to your hands or feet. It's usually caused by low oxygen levels in the red blood cells or problems getting oxygenated blood to your body.

No, this wasn’t cyanosis. Even he knew enough to know humans didn’t turn that particular shade. And why the heck did these...data pieces keep forcing their way into his brain?

His thoughts were interrupted by a pounding on the door. “Hey Dorkster, open up. The rest of us need to use the bathroom too!”

It was all Dexter could do to keep from hyperventilating. He couldn’t let his family see him like this! They already thought he was weird! What could he do? Disguise himself?

He felt the lightning tingle again, around his eyes and the top of his head. A glance in the mirror revealed his hair had become black and spikey, while a domino mask appeared about his eyes. As his panic rose, he felt a strange bubbling feeling in his mind. His thoughts broke apart and drifted away, no matter how hard he tried to hold on to them. Why was he trying to hold on to them anyway?

“Come on, freakazoid, open the door!”

Oh right, Duncan. Huh, Duncan had always been upset Dexter wasn’t like him, big and strong. If everything was changing, maybe he could change that?

He grinned as he became taller and gained a physique not seen outside comics. Duncan would be so happy! He opened the door with his grin growing ever wider. “Let’s Wrassle!”

~~

Roddy took a deep breath as he stopped the car, ignoring the ache in his ribs it caused. There was no ambulance or people screaming, so hopefully no one had been seriously injured. It was a small comfort, but it was there. He grabbed his old Apex employee card and the cane he hated but needed to be mobile right now.

He made his way to the front door carefully, avoiding icy patches on the walk and steps (oh how he’d come to loathe steps) and rang the bell.

He heard some movement inside and the door opened to reveal a middle aged woman with a smile that seemed almost grafted on.. “Can I help you?” “My name is Roddy McStewart, I work for Apex International, creators of the Pinnacle Chip.” He handed the man both his Work ID stating he was an employee and his driver’s license. “We received a signal from a newly installed Pinnacle Chip of a malfunction and I’m here to take a look at it.”

“On Christmas Day?” she asked, surprised.

“We all do what we can to make a living.” He gave her a sad smile.

“Well, okay then. Dexter’s room is upstairs, second door on the right.” Roddy blinked. Just like that? Still he shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Even if it involved stairs.

He was nearly bowled over by a teenage boy running past him, yelling about something blue. Roddy looked to the woman who’d opened the door, but she'd just called up to ‘Dexter’ that he had a guest.

Odd Family he thought, as he made his way up the stairs.

~~

This was some quality family bonding he thought as he sat on Duncan’s back locking up one of his brother’s legs. That’s what it was, right? That’s why it was okay for Duncan to get physical with him.

“I give! I give!” Duncan called out.

But he knew this game. It wasn’t over because the other person gave up. You had to make them say something. “Sing ‘I’m a tugboat, Call me Mel’.”

“I’m a tugboat...call me Mel...I can’t, I don’t know the words?”

“That’s a tough one since I just made it up.” He admitted, but let Duncan up since he had tried.

Duncan tore out of the room, so he knew he’d done a good job, until he heard his mother’s voice coming from downstairs. “Dexter, you have a guest.”

Dexter. That’s right, he was Dexter. And with that realization the floating feeling he had vanished as his thoughts coalesced and his body condensed into the body he’d always had. He fled back into his room and huddled on his bed, too freaked out to try and do much more.

There was a knock on the door and a red-haired man entered. He glanced around seemingly surprised at the computer, still humming along. “Are you Dexter?”

“Yeah, who are you?”

“Roddy McStewart. I’m here about a malfunction with your Pinnacle Chip, but everything seems to be-”

“That was real?” Dexter blurted out. “Ever since that happened...I think I’m going insane.” he clutched his head.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Roddy asked. The room wasn’t a mess of shrapnel as he feared, but it was obvious something had happened.

“After I installed it the cat jumped on the keyboard and it started going nuts. I tried you yank the chip out to save the computer-”

“Are ye daft boy! You could have electrocuted yourself!” 

“I know, I wasn’t thinking!” Dexter snapped back. “I grabbed it and I thought I got shocked and blacked out, but my hand was fine when I woke up. And...thoughts keep popping in my head.”

“What kind of thoughts?” Anything besides a broken computer was well out of his wheelhouse, but Roddy couldn’t just leave the kid when he was so upset. Especially given the concern he now had with the lad’s mother sending him up to see her teenage son without any supervision.

“I dunno, random facts? It’s like articles and videos are just pulling themselves up in my mind. And then everything goes fuzzy.” Dexter didn’t mention what had happened in the bathroom. There was no way that was anything other than a hallucination.

There was the beginning of an idea forming in Roddy’s head, but he wasn’t ready to admit it was possible yet. That the reason Dexter’s computer had been spared was the Pinnacle chip had found a better storage solution for its mass internet download.

Before he could even think of how to check or even explain the door burst open and a taser fired directly at his chest. Roddy’s world exploded in pain, both from the electricity and his ribs from the body spasms, and everything went black.

~~~~

I’m trying to do more of a buildup to Freakazoid’s development and not him just being created fully formed by the accident. In the first episode Dance of Doom Freakazoid states that he and Dexter are two aspects of the same person so I wanted to show how he comes from Dexter.

[kookitykook]

Cryo (Jungkook x Reader)

Just a little scenario I couldn’t get out of my head.

~genre: angst, sfw 

~word count: 1.1k 

~summary: You were put into cryo in the year 2018 alongside your partner and the love of your life, Jeon Jungkook. The government told you and Jungkook that cryo would only further enhance your abilities, allowing the two of you to truly become the weapons that the world needed you to be. No matter if you and Jungkook wanted something different for yourselves - a different life to share.

~~~~~~

“How’s she looking?”

“Still functioning at a hundred percent,” Yoongi called out, looking over the readouts of blood pressure, heart rate, and brain function. “Defrost is almost complete.”

“Time?” Hoseok followed up, peeking from behind the cryo tube where he was unnecessarily fiddling with wires. If Yoongi didn’t completely trust Hoseok’s electric-leaning brain, he would be worried.  

“About five or six minutes left,” Yoongi replied, leaving his station to go stand in front of the cryo tube. Hoseok followed suit, the two scientists looking at the ancient cryo with anticipation. 

Yoongi was still, his arms crossed and eyes narrowed, waiting silently. Hoseok bounced on his toes excitedly.

“Can we lift the lid?” Hoseok asked. “It won’t make that much of a difference now, will it?”

Yoongi cocked his head to the side, glancing over at his partner with pursed lips. “I suppose so.”

“Yes!” Hoseok fist pumped the air, stepping up to the cryo and punching in a series of numbers. “Three years of waiting to see her. Wait, what if it’s not even a she?”

“Estrogen levels were too high for a male,” Yoongi explained patiently.

Hoseok glanced over his shoulder as the cryo made a dinging noise, depressurizing as the lid slowly lifted, cold air sweeping out over the cement floor. 

“Yeah okay I know that, but I’m just saying what if—”

Hoseok gasped as a hand thrust itself out of the fog of the cryo and wrapped itself around his throat. His feet were lifted off of the ground, his body flailing as he clawed at the cryo subject’s arms. 

“Hoseok!” 

Before Yoongi could reach Hoseok, he was thrown to the side and into the wall. Yoongi stuttered to a stop, unable to turn quickly enough to reach his partner before the cryo subject, before you stepped out of the fog and into his space. 

Yoongi noticed right away that you were pale, with wet hair all the way to your knees. The cryo slowed down bodily processes like hair and nail growth, but didn’t fully stop them. There were processes in place to clip your nails at a certain length, but none for hair.

Two hundred years, give or take a decade, you had been stuck in there. And now you were waking up to two strangers in your face. 

The last thing Yoongi thought before you grabbed his throat was that having you wake up to two strange men might not have been the best idea. 

“Where am I?” You asked, your voice scratchy and hoarse, but still audible. Even as Yoongi struggled for breath, he considered how remarkable it was that you could speak at all. 

“Hamford… Labs... Cryo Facility… Please, I—”

“Drop him!” 

Yoongi blanched even further as he saw Hoseok out of the corner of his eye, gun in hand. 

Well, a proton deflector gun that was literally useless against a human being let alone the one with her hand wrapped around his throat, but still.

You hesitated, staring at Hoseok, your eyes trailing the blood dripping down his temple and dripping onto his lab coat. 

Yoongi gasped for air as he was unceremoniously dropped to the floor in a heap. Hoseok, the most brilliant human he knew other than himself, dropped his only bargaining chip at the same moment the subject dropped Yoongi, running to his partner and dropping to the ground at his side as he caught his breath. 

You stood over them, glancing around the labs warily, your hands twitching at your side. 

“Yoongi,” Hoseok gasped. “Hyung, can you breathe, can you hear me?”

“Yes,” Yoongi coughed, grasping Hoseok’s hand in his own, “yes to both.”

“I thought you said we had five minutes.”

“Apparently I was wrong.”

Yoongi’s admission seemed to shock Hoseok more than the situation they had found themselves in.

“Hamford… Labs…” you said suddenly, both scientists backing up against the table behind them for some semblance of cover from you. 

You were blinking rapidly and shaking your head, the way one does when they’ve just woken up from a realistic dream. Or a nightmare. 

“I wasn’t moved…”

“You haven’t been moved in a long time,” Hoseok called out, his voice only slightly shaking. “We found you on accident. This lab was closed in 2026, it’s been abandoned since then. A real surprise honestly, you must’ve been removed from some records.” He was rambling, Hoseok always rambled when he was scared. “Nobody… nobody knows we’re even doing this, we were trying to protect you. If the government found out about the last cryo, they’d—”

“2026?” You gasped suddenly, taking a step closer to the two scientists. You froze when they both shrunk back, hesitating before moving back to your original stance. Your hands twitched at your sides. “What… what year is it?”

Yoongi and Hoseok were silent. You turned on your heel and slammed her fist against the cryotube behind her, denting the impenetrable metal. 

“What year is it?” You screamed, voice cracking, your back still turned to the two.

“2243,” Yoongi spluttered, sitting up and doing his best to push Hoseok’s body behind his own. Not that he let him. “It’s 2243. You’ve been in cryo for… well, we’re not really sure how long you’ve been in there.”

“More than 200 years,” Hoseok jumped in, his voice cracking. “We don’t know how much more, but… but more than 200. We couldn’t find you on any records, it was an honest accident that we found you. You must have been… lost in the system or something, we—”

“225.”

“What?”

You turned your back to face the two scientists. Your eyes were rimmed with silver as you fell to your knees. 

“225 years. I've been in there for…” You gasped, clutching at your chest, “for 225 years. How—how did this happen?” You glanced around the room frantically, eyes moving faster than they should have been able to, considering your current state. “Where—where is he?”

Hoseok swallowed thickly, glancing over at Yoongi who looked equally confused. “Where is who?”

You met Hoseok’s eyes for the first time, and the sheer emotion there made the scientist shrink back. 

“Where is Jungkook? Where… where is he?”

Yoongi and Hoseok could only blink at you, stunned to their core. 

“He was here with me,” you continued. “He was put in cryo at the same time as me. W-We were only supposed to be here for… for six months. Did you wake him up, too?”

The seconds seemed to drag on endlessly. 

“It was only you,” Yoongi finally spoke. “Just you, there was … there was nobody else.”

You stilled. With your ashen skin and white clothes, you almost looked like a marble statue. 

A statue with tears falling down her marble face. 

[funkymeihem-fiction]

Hot Headed, Cold Hearted- Chapter 5

The cold was eating away at her; little crystals digging their sharp, beautiful patterns into her mind. There was nothing but ice, reflecting little diamond-specks of light behind her closed eyelids; and everything was still and frozen and silent. And this time there was no laughing warmth, no source of heat to drag her to its chest and wrap her in its long arms, no sharp teeth against the top of her ear or her neck, nothing to melt it and drive it away. The ice would take her, this time, and there was nothing she could do. The life in her was already seeping away, consumed by the unrelenting winter. Maybe there was still a little mist on her breath, one last gasp of the warmth leaving her body before the bitter wind took it away and it was forgotten with everything else in these deserted ruins. She would be entombed here forever in the cold of the Antarctic, with the rest of the dead. Just like she should have died, years ago… Until her body shuddered hard and consciousness returned to her quite suddenly, like a shock of hot water being thrown over her senses, coming to and coughing raggedly as her eyes creaked open. Her first real thought was that she must have been waking up from the crash, with vague memories of the rocky mountainside getting closer and closer before there was a whirl of metal and fire and she had passed out. But she wasn’t in the ship anymore, that much was immediately clear. And if she wasn’t in the ship, she had no idea where she was. Somewhere cold.. She was laying on her side on the frigid ground, on unfamiliar and very dirty old linoleum. Her hands were cuffed in front of her, clamped around her bare wrists where her gloves had been removed, and her fingertips were slightly blue. Her coat was hanging askew on her shoulders, her clothes were in disarray, her belt with all her supplies was missing, and she was rumpled in several places that would have been very inappropriate to rumple. No doubt she’d been searched and then dumped here in…wherever this was. With a groan, drawing in her bound hands to try and tuck them into her coat, she slowly sat up and looked around her. It looked like some sort of conference room, though not one known to her. It was featureless and gray, with nothing but a large table and a stacked pile of chairs off to one side. One of the lights overhead flickered ominously, humming as the electrical circuit shorted out again and again. And everything seemed…old. When she looked again, even with the blurriness of her missing glasses, the furniture looked strangely out of date, something from decades ago. The paint on the walls was chipped and peeling, there were water marks that stained the popcorn ceilings a filthy brown, and everything was covered in recently-disturbed layers of gray dust. If this really was an old meeting room, then nobody had held a meeting here in a long, long time.

And despite being indoors, it was horribly cold. Her breath clouded in front of her on every exhalation, tongue flicking out to wet her dry lips as she went to stagger slowly to her feet. Everything was still sore, likely from the crash, when all her attempts to outmaneuver Talon had failed. And now Talon had brought her here to whatever this place was. As she looked about, she felt a familiar weight and a faint jingle, reaching up to her bun and finding that her treasured snowflake pin was miraculously still in place. Likely when they’d tossed her onto the ground to search her, they’d simply forgotten to remove it in their haste. It wasn’t much, but its simple presence was at least a miniscule comfort she desperately needed right now. She removed it quickly, sending her hair tumbling down and tucking it very carefully between her breasts, clamped in place between her bra. Straightening her shirt back out, she went to see if there were any exits to be made. Holding her cuffed hands to her side, which felt severely bruised or mildly broken, she stumbled to the door and pulled. Locked. Of course. She tried giving it a little kick. Too strong for someone like her to knock it down. And Roadhog was nowhere in sight to do it for her. Much less anybody else… Tendrils of panic started to creep in at the corners of her mind. What had happened to Roadhog? Surely someone like him would have survived the crash, but had Talon captured him too? Maybe they were keeping him prisoner in some other frozen corner of whatever decrepit old facility they’d been brought to? Would they even bother to capture someone like him, or simply kill him outright? And what about Junkrat, Bastion, Snowball, or Ganymede? Were any of them all right? Were any of them even alive? The scream that Junkrat had made when he’d fallen and been swallowed up by the trees, and she’d had to keep going…That thought chilled her even more than the frigid temperatures. She was breathing a little harder than she should have, clutching her hands to her chest to try and stifle it. Hyperventilating wouldn’t help, after all, but her lungs were warring inside her bruised ribs despite her best efforts. “Qǐng lěngjìng…”She tried to speak aloud for a little comfort, no matter how much her voice was shaking and how false the words felt. “All right, Mei… Don’t get cold feet now. Snowball isn’t here this time, but we’ve gotten out of worse. The others are still out there and they are counting on you. We’re just going to…” She trailed off for a moment, still trying to gather her thoughts. “We’re going to be all right. We’ll find out where we are, regroup, and then put out a distress call. So don’t you dare panic. The others still need you!” Find out where they were. Regroup. Distress call. It was hardly a plan at all, but it was all she had to go on. If the rest of her misbegotten team was still out there, she needed to find them, and soon. She tried kicking the door again. It rattled, but showed no signs of giving way. Maybe she should try throwing one of the chairs at it? It might make noise and garner some no-doubt unwanted attention, but she hadn’t heard any voices outside so far. Drawing her still half-frozen hands out of her coat, she went to reach for the top of the stack of old furniture… …and then nearly screamed aloud when one of the chairs started to ring. She jolted backward, almost falling. There was another jingling chime before she recognized the sound of a phone going off. Warily slipping forward, she peeked between the chairs and saw a dim light wedged in between them. It rang again, then again, and Mei looked around in a bit of a daze before finally going to reach in and grab it. Flicking it open, she held it to one ear and waited a moment before offering a breathless little, “Hello?” “Hola!” a cheerful female voice answered on the other end. “And it only took you seven rings to pick up. Aw, and here I was worrying that you weren’t as smart as I’d heard.” Mei frowned down at the phone, the screen now showing a white sugar skull against a scrolling purple background, cupping her frozen hands around the device to muffle her voice. “Who is this? Where am I? What have you done w-” “Take it easy, pobrecita. You know that old saying, ‘all things in good time’? I just want to make sure we’re starting things off on the right foot. As for me…” Mei heard the woman pause dramatically before practically purring into the phone, “They call me…Sombra.” Mei waited, but no more information seemed to be forthcoming. “…Who is that?” The woman seemed to bristle at the apparent lack of recognition, her voice gaining a bit of an edge. “Sombra. Sombra! The Sombra?” “What?” “Do they seriously not warn you about me at your organization? All right, a bit of a reputation boost was due soon anyway, but let’s put a pin in that for now. The important thing for you to know is that I’m your friend, Mei-Ling Zhou. And right now, I’m the only friend you have around here.” The woman, this so-called Sombra, chuckled into her ear. “And for the record, I think you might be the cutest friend I have. I mean, look at you, nobody mentioned you’d be so adorable!” Mei’s eyes darted, searching the ceilings and corners for a camera or any devices. She squinted hard, but still couldn’t make anything out amongst the water stains and cobwebs. Sombra laughed again, and it sounded like she was popping a piece of gum between her teeth before asking, “Nervous? Probably wise, with what’s coming up. Here’s the scoop. Your big puerco friend is with us, la rata and the bot aren’t. Probably for the best, if the bot was infected. Also, really? You and the ratty one? What is with your taste in men, amiga?” Mei held her forehead, brain still spinning. This Sombra character put her ill at ease on a level she couldn’t even describe, so casually discussing her friends’ possible demises and then asking her about her love life like they were old pals. And something about Bastion being infected? For some reason, she answered the love question first, and wasn’t sure why. “Because he’s…funny. And nice. And I like him. And how do you know what he’s like, have you met him before? Please, if you know what happened to him, you have to tell me. And Mr. Roadhog too. And Bastion. What do you mean, ‘infected’? That song…Are you making him sing that song? The hotel! Were you at the hotel that night when-” Sombra cut her off with a snort. “Oh please, like I would stay in a dump of a town like around here? So the bot’s at the singing stage and you don’t know why? Mm, interesting. You’re an interesting person, Mei-Ling, and I really like interesting people. They’re my favorite kind of people.” “Tell me what that means!” Mei said, a little more desperately, clutching the phone to her cold cheek as she huddled near the stack of chairs. “Or…if you can’t, at least let me out? If they’re out there, what if they’re hurt? I have to help them! Y-you keep saying we’re friends, please-” “Hold on,” Sombra said abruptly, “Oh, looks like one of my other friends is going to pay you a visit here soon. In fact, I think he’s already on his way, so we’re going to have to cut this short until next time. Just try not to say anything that will make him kill you, hm? You’re just too cute for that. I’d get upset.” “Already on his way? Who? Kill me? Please, don’t hang up! Tell me, who-” “Hide the phone. Oh, and as a little gesture of good will, there should be a pair of your spare glasses a little further in with those chairs. Because that’s what friends do, amiga, is do each other little favors. Let’s talk again soon, yeah? Hugs n’ kisses! Adios!” “Wait!” Mei said, but the other end had already clicked and hung up. She stood looking dumbly at the phone for a moment before fumbling at it with her bound hands, looking around frantically for a place to hide it. At a bit of a loss, she finally pushed open her shirt and shoved it into the side of a bra cup, near her hidden hairpin, tucking it down and smoothing her coat over it before glancing around. Well, it had been about ten minutes and she now had multiple contraband items hidden in her bosom, and Junkrat wasn’t even here to make a lewd comment. She wished he was… Remembering Sombra’s words, she quickly went digging around in the chairs again, and emerged a moment later clutching her spare glasses. Setting them on her nose, the familiar weight and clarity brought little comfort, especially when she heard heavy footfalls from what must have been a hallway outside the door. Instinctively, she backed towards the far wall, and watched in wary silence as the footsteps paused outside…and then came the click and hiss of the lock before it swung open. ***

In stepped the tall, imposing figure of a man in black leather, black robes, and a black cowl, broken only by the stark bone white of the mask that obscured whatever no doubt ghoulish features lay beneath. A very faint black mist hung around his feet, the metal bottoms of his boots clanking against the cold floor. Swinging his neck with a creak of what she hoped was bone, he rolled his head in a slow circle before turning his masked face towards her. Mei took another step back. When he spoke, his voice echoed strangely somewhere inside the mask, deep and gravely and painful-sounding. “Overwatch Agent Mei-Ling Zhou… One of the original ranks and all. I suppose the reports of the science team’s demise were incorrect.” He did not sound particularly impressed, nor happy about it. “And now they’re sending someone like you out into the field? Where is Opara? Or someone worth talking to.” Cold rage flared in her chest at the name, and her teeth grit together. She dared not advance, voice still soft. “Don’t…Don’t you say anything about Opara. Or any of them. You can just talk to me, instead. Leave them out of it.” “Oh?” He intoned, voice still flat. “I know who you are.” That seemed to interest him a little more, the mist whirling around him as he took a step towards her. And when he spoke, there was a strange tone to his already strange voice. “Ah, you know me? You know who I was? Then you know-” “I know you’re the Reaper. You’re a lead Talon agent, a terrorist and a murderer, and I already know you’re very mean!” The specter paused as if studying her for a moment before drawing back. The genuine interest was gone, replaced by that bored amusement again. “Hm… Guilty.” He loomed over her, staring downward. He was hardly as tall as Junkrat or Roadhog, and she was well used to people looming over her, but this felt wrong. She was cornered by someone much larger and stronger than her, a rumored ghost of a man whose existence was unnatural and dangerous, and who had a body count that even Overwatch didn’t know the extent of. She tried to take another step back, but her heels hit the wall. “Why are you here, Zhou,” he said, more of a flat demand than a question. “And how many more are coming.” “Coming? This is just a mistake. I-I’m sure we can still talk this out.” She wished her voice sounded stronger. She’d never fared well during confrontations with others- except for arguing with Jamison- and her voice tended to waver, crack, and sound on the verge of tears at times, no matter how hard she tried. But she tried anyway, keeping her eyes on him even as her voice betrayed her with another squeak. “We’re a science survey team, that’s all. We were here to look into the missing omnics. S-so, please, if you know anything about my missing teammates-” “Your team is dead.” “No. No, I know they’re not dead, and-” “But then, judging by your reaction with Opara and the others, I wager that the initial news about your expedition was true. I suppose you should be used to the idea of dead teammates.” There was that feeling again, that coiled rage that slithered and writhed in a tight little weighted ball inside her chest, insulated by wary fear. He was trying to bait her, but it was affecting her far more deeply than she wished. Still, she stifled any reprisal in favor of merely tightening her fists inside her coat, repeating, “Nobody is coming. At least not yet. Please, if you have the rest of my team, don’t hurt them.” “The cute act won’t work here, Zhou. Your ‘science team’ consisting of you, two Australian criminal mercenaries, and an omnic gun, showing up here during our operation.” She paused at that, having to think before answering. “Well…I know that it’s an…odd team,” she admitted. “But they’re still my team! We don’t know about your operation here…or why Talon has been kidnapping local omnics!” She narrowed her eyes a little behind her glasses, trying to turn the tables to get at least a little power back in such a situation. “My team came here to find out the cause of the disappearances and malfunctions, and we found you! I don’t know what Talon is up to, but you won’t get away with it! Those omnics are innocent citizens-” He scoffed. “My organization has better things to do than sit in this miserable frozen hellhole and kidnap service bots for several decades, Zhou. You’re either playing stupid, and believe me, you seem to be very good at that…or you actually don’t know what’s here.” That made her pause. The reports had indeed said that the vanishing omnics had started several decades ago, likely before Talon had even existed. Reaper might have been correct in his denial. The timelines didn’t match up. “But, then what is Talon doing here? What is this place? What about the missing omnics? And my team-” “I told you, your team is dead,” he growled. She didn’t waver, swallowing hard behind the fur of her collar. “I told you. No they’re not. I know it.” “Always so hopeful, aren’t you. I suppose you might have said the same thing about Opara and the others, when Overwatch abandoned you all to die?” He examined his metallic claws, taking note when the girl froze at his words. “But don’t feel too special. Overwatch abandoned so many others, over the years. You’re just one of the few that went crawling back to them, even after everything they’ve done…How pathetic.” She didn’t answer him. He continued. “I thought it was an error when your name popped up again in those hacked files. I was there when the order went out for non-retrieval, all those years ago. Too many resources for a handful of dead weathermen, they said. They left you there. And after that, you and your team were just another set of numbers lost in the piles of paperwork. Just another name to add to the list of casualties. You’ve been dead for years, Zhou. Just. Like. Me.” She drew away with a frown, staring at him a little harder as if it would help her see through the mask to whoever or whatever lay beneath it. “Who are you? Who were you?” “Me? Let’s say that I have experience in dealing with dead things. I’m the one who will finally put the stake in Overwatch’s rotten heart, if that’s what it will take to finally kill it.” “Y-you’re wrong, they’re not like that…” “Are you going to say they’ve changed? I suppose you’re right about that much. Overwatch used to be a name before that stupid monkey decided to resurrect its corpse. Now you’re just another gang of pretenders under a dead symbol. Hiring mercenaries and killers and anyone who will do anything for the money… And I thought Talon had trouble with its standards,” he said wryly. “You’re just another merc group, buying up people like this…” He took a step closer and gestured with one claw before he fiddled with the viscomm device on his arm, a light flickering above it as he flicked the controls. A holographic display lit up into a screen before her, and she looked to the rather horrific scene it depicted. Roadhog was bound in a room much drearier than the one she was in, his arms bound behind him. He was still breathing, massive belly heaving from the effort, and she thought she could see dark puddles of what looked like blood on the floor. She went a little white in the face, eyes wide behind her glasses, expression blanked. Reaper gestured to the imprisoned junker idly. “Part of your ‘science survey team’, Zhou? A masked killer who calls himself a harbinger of the apocalypse? Heh. ‘Overwatch’.” Angry panic rushed through her at the sight of her captive friend, surging forward off the wall. “Don’t hurt him! Don’t you dare hurt him!” He offered a languid shrug. “If it were up to me…you would both be dead by now. But, there seems to be some interest in keeping you alive. For now. I suggest you don’t press your luck.” “What is this about, then?! You’ve captured us both but you won’t tell me where we are, if we can negotiate, what you're doing here, or anything! Are you just in here to taunt me and insult me? Why? Just to make yourself feel better?” “Pressing your luck already. Why are you trying to face me, Zhou?” The expressionless mask loomed a little closer to her, leaning down, and she could feel the cold radiating off him like fire. “Why are you pretending to be stronger than you really are?” But Mei had always been strong in the face of cold. If there was anything she could stand against, it was the cold. She narrowed her eyes at him, cheeks puffing, and though she had never been good at insults, she spat the first thing she could think of. “Well! W-why do you try so hard to be scary, you…you owl!” For a moment, she thought she could hear a faint, raucous laughter from the ghoulish man’s earpiece. Reaper growled a low, warning “Sombra…” before turning back to face her. “I saw you have Mr. Roadhog,” she said, hoping she sounded confident despite the nerves gnawing in the empty pit of her stomach. “Where is Bastion? And where are you keeping Jamis-… Junkrat. If you have Agent Junkrat, where is he?” “Junkrat? Ah, the other junker your lot hired. I hear that one is your personal favorite.” He laughed. It was an unpleasant sound, something that rasped and tore out of his throat with dry claws, echoing in on itself, and only the shaking of his shoulders made her realize it was a laugh at all. “We knew you had stooped to hiring mercenaries, but junkers? Especially those junkers? Well, he’s dead anyway. Fell from your ship during the first strike. Not long after, we blew your bot out of the sky as well. You and the obesity warrior are our only survivors…Congratulations to you...” Her jaw tightened slightly, but she didn’t flinch as she stared him down. “No. You’re a liar. You’re lying to me.” “You’ve gotten bolder, Zhou.” The amusement in his voice did not deter her. “You are lying to me,” she stated again, and this time her voice didn’t waver. “He’s not dead. He might have fallen, but he’s not dead.” “And what makes you say that.” “Because I didn’t see him die. Because he’s still out there. Because you don’t know how he is. And you don’t know that if anyone can survive against the odds, it’s him!”

[digitaleddyposts]

THE OUTCOME OF FEAR 3 more

FEAR OF LOSING HIS LOVE    

This innate fear results from a male tendency to polygamy. The man will unscrupulously steal his best friend's companion, or if he has the opportunity, will allow himself familiarities with him. Jealousy and other similar forms of neurosis come from the fundamental fear of losing the loved one. It is the most painful fear, one that probably wreaks havoc in the body or mind.

It probably derives its origin from the stone age when the man brutally seized the coveted woman. If the ends are the same, the technique has changed. It persuades, charm, promises toilets, a beautiful car and benefits more effective than brutality. Since the dawn of civilization, human habits are the same. They express themselves differently, that's all.

Careful study revealed that women, more than men, fear losing the object of their love, which is easily explained. They have learned, often at their expense, that the nature of man is polygamous.

Symptoms that reveal the fear of losing the loved one:

1. LA JALOUSIE. The habit of suspecting without reason his friends and those whom we love. The habit, without motive, of accusing his wife or husband of infidelity; to suspect everyone and not trust anyone.

2. THE CRITICAL. Criticize his friends for no reason, his parents, business associates and those we love.

3. THE GAME. Play, steal, cheat to give money to those we love by believing that love is bought. Spend beyond his means or go into debt to give gifts to those we love to show a favorable light. Insomnia, nervousness, lack of perseverance, weak will, lack of self-control, self-confidence, bad character.

THE FEAR OF AGING

The fear of aging gives the man 2 good reasons to apprehend the future: how to trust a

The fear of old age

Next who will strip him and how not to be haunted by the horrible evocation of the hereafter?

This form of fear is intensified by the risks of illness and disability. Eroticism holds its place, no one cherishing the thought of a diminished sexual power.

The fear of old age is associated with FEAR OF POVERTY, that of losing independence, physical and economic freedom.

The most common symptoms are:

1. The tendency to put one's body and mind "on the back burner" at the age of 40 (the age of maturity of the mind) and to develop an inferiority complex by believing, wrongly, over because of age.

2. The habit of talking about one's age; to apologize for his 40 or 50 years, instead of expressing gratitude for having reached the age of wisdom and understanding.

3. The habit of killing initiative, imagination and self-confidence by mistakenly believing that they are too old to exercise them.

4. The habit of disguising himself as a young man, at age 40, by copying the clothes and manners of his cadets. This only results in ridicule in the eyes of others and friends.

THE FEAR OF DEATH

For some, this fundamental fear is the most cruel of all. The terrible anguish of the thought of death is, in most cases, charged with religious fanaticism. Those we call "pagans" are less afraid of death than we "civilized". For thousands of years, men have asked questions that they have not answered yet: "Where are we from? Where are we going? "

There was a time when astute individuals proposed to respond with money.

"Come under my tent, embrace my faith, accept my dogmas and I will make you present a ticket that will open you paradise immediately after your death," said one adept.

"If you do not come," he cried again, "the devil will hang you and burn you for all eternity."

The thought of eternal punishment takes away all interest in life and makes all happiness impossible.

With the help of biology, astronomy, geology and other sciences, ancestral fears dissipate.

The world consists of 2 elements: ENERGY and MATTER. In elementary physics, we learn that neither can be created or destroyed. Both can be transformed. Life is an energy. So she can not be destroyed. Like other forms of energy, it will undergo several phases of transition, of change, but it can not be destroyed. Death is only a transition.

In this case, after death can come only a long, an eternal, a peaceful rest and there is no reason to fear rest.

So you can definitely sweep from your mind the fear and fear of death.

Symptoms revealing the fear of death:

One who is afraid of death has the habit of thinking about death instead of enjoying life to the fullest.

This habit often stems from a lack of purpose or the inability to find adequate occupation. This habit is more prevalent among the elderly, but young people are also often victims. The best cure for the fear of death is a desire to act and help others.

Whoever is busy does not have time to think about death.

This fear is often associated with the fear of poverty.

To fear poverty for oneself or for those we love when we will no longer be there to support them.

In other cases, fear of death is associated with illness or imbalance. Physical illness can lead to mental depression. Deception in love, poverty, religious fanaticism, lack of occupation, madness can determine the fear of death.

The worry is an insidious fear To worry is a state of mind that is fear.

He works slowly but surely. He is insidious and subtle ..

Gradually, he "mine" to paralyze the reasoning, destroy self-confidence and any initiative. Concern is a form of permanent fear motivated by indecision: it is a state of mind that can be controlled.

An undecided spirit is of no help. Most people lack the will to make quick decisions and stick to them. Yet this is how worries fly away.

I interviewed a man 2 hours before he sat on the electric chair. He was more calm of the 8 convicts in the cell, which made me ask him how one feels when one knows that one will die in a very short time.

With a confident smile, he replied: "We feel good; think about it, my troubles will end. I only had that in life. I have always had so much trouble getting food and clothes. I do not have to worry about it now and you want me not to feel good?

Since I know I'm going to die, I look good to my destiny. "

Deliver for ever from the fear of death. Make the decision to accept it as an inevitable event.

Deliver yourself from the fear of poverty by deciding to obtain wealth; fear of criticism, deciding not to worry about what people will think, say or do; fear of growing older, deciding to accept old age as a great blessing that brings with it the wisdom, self-control and understanding that youth lack; fear of illness, deciding to forget his symptoms; fear of losing your love, deciding to live without love, if necessary.

How to overcome his fear?

Abandon the habit of worrying about everything and nothing; decide once and for all that nothing that life can bring is worth the torment you create.

This decision will ensure balance, peace of mind and indirectly happiness.

A man who is afraid does not only destroy his own chances of acting intelligently, but transmits these destructive waves to the brains of all who come into contact with him and thus destroys their chances.

A dog or a horse feels when his master is distressed.

He collects the waves of fear emitted by the latter and acts accordingly.

Destructive thoughts, waves of fear pass from one mind to another as quickly and surely as the sound of the human voice passes from the transmitting station to the receiver of your radio.

The one who expresses his negative or destructive thoughts by words can be sure that they will be shocked in return.

Without even the help of words, thoughts are enough to attract the bad shots of the spell.

First and foremost, the one who releases destructive thoughts will suffer especially in his creative imagination that will be broken.

Secondly, in the mind, the presence of all destructive emotion develops a negative personality which, far from attracting beings, repels them and often makes them hostile. Third, these negative thoughts become embedded in the subconscious and become part of their character.

No doubt, the purpose of your life is to succeed. For this, you must find peace of mind, meet the necessary material needs and above all achieve happiness.

All these proofs of success are born in the form of thoughts.

You can control your own thinking, nurturing ideas that you have chosen.

You have the privilege but also the responsibility to use it for a constructive purpose.

You are the master of your earthly destiny as surely as you have the power to control your thoughts.

You can directly or indirectly influence your environment, make your life what you want it to be.

You can neglect to exercise this privilege, obey your life and throw yourself into the vast sea of "circumstances" where you will be tossed here and there like a chip on the waves of the ocean. So you have the choice, and if you read me is that you have already taken the first steps, do not get discouraged along the way, read the 13 articles over and over, learn them by heart if necessary, but influence your subconscious from positive thoughts, from the principles of the law of attraction, when you have eliminated fear, you will have created a state of mind that will allow you to pour abundance into all areas of your life. Live in abundance is a matter of habit and a habit is unconscious, you have the key, it's up to you to play.

[trendingnewsb]

Boredom Can Make You More Productive Only When You Learn These 8 Tricks

Picture this:

You’re bored at work, almost in tears because the tasks on your to-do list seem so monotonous and dull. Your mind starts to wander and you ask yourself, “Is this what I should be doing with my life?” It’s as if your brain is trying to look for anything else to do to avoid the task at hand. You check you phone, you go on social media, you might even make a paper airplane – anything to make the feeling stop! Sound familiar? You are not alone!

But what if we could use our boredom to actually help us become more productive?

It might seem counter intuitive at first. Boredom is the feeling that you get when you feel disengaged and unable to focus. Oftentimes we feel unsure of what we can even do to make the feeling go away. We can experience different types of boredom depending on the situation, which can stem from feelings of restlessness, apathy, or even aggression. If we’re bored, it doesn’t necessarily mean that we haven’t taken action. We might watch TV, eat a snack, or surf the web to pass the time.

Productivity, on the other hand, is the ability to take concentrated action and feel a sense of progress based on your efforts. It’s about getting things done that give you a sense of pride or accomplishment. You might have scrolled through 100 updates on Facebook, but does that make you productive? More likely, it means that you are bored! All behaviors are not created equal. To be productive, you have to find value in your action.

8 ways to transform your boredom into a productivity booster

Slow down and acknowledge the boredom

We will oftentimes try anything possible to escape boredom. In a study conducted by Timothy Wilson,[1] a social psychologist at the University of Virginia in Charlottesville, undergraduates were given the option to sit alone for 15 minutes with only their thoughts, or give themselves electric shocks. Sixty-seven percent of the men in the study opted to shock themselves, even though they had previously noted that they would pay money to avoid the sensation! This same type of psychology applies to our daily lives too. Have you ever sat down in front of the TV and had a snack, even if you were not hungry? Before you know it, you’ve eaten a full bag of chips. People eat, drink, and engage in all different types of activities out of boredom. By slowing down and recognizing your boredom, you can choose more productive behavior.

Don’t let filler activities overwhelm you 

Oftentimes when we are bored, we can fall into patterns of behavior associated with filler activity, otherwise known as “busy work”. We send text messages, browse social media sites, or pace back and forth. We are physically doing something, but it’s usually a distraction and the behavior does not provide true value to our lives. Ask yourself, “Is my behavior productive? What am I trying to accomplish through this task?” Productive behavior will always be in service to an end goal.

Figure out why you are bored

Now it’s time to get to the root cause of the feeling. What is causing the boredom? Perhaps you don’t know what you want to do or accomplish. Or maybe you do have an idea, but your current job or circumstance doesn’t allow you the time or ability, and your boredom stems from that frustration. It could also be the task at hand that could be causing your boredom. Tasks that are repetitive, too easy, or out of your control can sometimes feel dull! Whatever the reason, label it and move on.

Move toward valued action and novelty

Now that you know what is causing your boredom, you can do something about it and become productive again. What do you need to change about your current environment, circumstance or mindset that will allow you to engage in behavior that will feel valuable to you? If you find yourself bored at your current job, what type of career would make you feel excited and motivated to go to work every day? What actions could you take right now to make that switch?

Twist the boring part to add spice to it

If it’s a particular task that has you feeling bored (like data entry or another small office nuisance), what could you add to the process to make it feel more fun or enjoyable? Perhaps you could make the task into a game. In this example, you could challenge yourself to complete 100 entries within the next hour. Attach small rewards (like a 10 minute walk or a sweet treat) to the outcome of the game. Track your progress and then try to beat your own personal records. This turns uninspired, boring actions into bursts of productivity. Try to find ways to make the circumstance feel new and different to you. This will heighten your engagement, and relieve feelings of boredom.

Some Apps Actually Help

Remove the impulse to revert back to the boredom-triggered “busy work”. There are tons of apps and programs (such as Freedom) that can block Facebook, Reddit, or other distracting websites that you might find yourself visiting to escape the boredom. It’s a habit that you’ll have to break, so don’t be too hard on yourself if your impulse is to engage in the distraction at first. Productivity is a muscle that you will need to flex again and again in order to gain strength.

Turn to the more boring tasks

Try reverting back to an old tip from childhood: remember when you were a kid and you would run up to your mom or dad and complain about being bored? And what was the first thing they would always say? “I have some chores for you to do!” And, as if it were magic, you would run off and find something else to do – it was an automatic cure for boredom! You can use this trick as an adult too. What is the one thing that you’ve been putting off for awhile? Perhaps it’s doing laundry or cleaning the restroom. Start tackling some of those not-so-fun chores. Either A) You will complete them and feel a sense of relief and productivity now that you’ve finished them, or B) You will have a better idea of what you would prefer to do instead.

Look for your genuine motivation

Still don’t know what you want to do? That’s okay. Everyone deserves a break every once in awhile! But if you do desire to be more productive, you’ll have to tap into your hidden source of motivation in order to take action. Try to make a list of the benefits: Who would be proud of you if you took action? Who could you be if you left boredom behind and became productive? Paint that picture in your mind. How would you feel? Jot down these ideas in as much detail as possible, and see if they motivate you enough to take deliberate action.

By using your boredom as a springboard towards productive action, you’ll gain a sense of clarity around how you want to spend your time. We all only have a limited amount of time on earth. To feel bored is to recognize that we are not spending our time in a way that feels fulfilling and connected to our passions. Doing this work will align your actions with your goals and will give you a sense of control over your time and life. Boredom often comes from the nagging feeling that we are wasting our time here on earth. Moving towards more productive thought patterns and behavior will help relieve that pressure.

Reference

[1]^Science: People would rather be electrically shocked than left alone with their thoughts

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[trendingnewsb]

Boredom Can Make You More Productive Only When You Learn These 8 Tricks

Picture this:

You’re bored at work, almost in tears because the tasks on your to-do list seem so monotonous and dull. Your mind starts to wander and you ask yourself, “Is this what I should be doing with my life?” It’s as if your brain is trying to look for anything else to do to avoid the task at hand. You check you phone, you go on social media, you might even make a paper airplane – anything to make the feeling stop! Sound familiar? You are not alone!

But what if we could use our boredom to actually help us become more productive?

It might seem counter intuitive at first. Boredom is the feeling that you get when you feel disengaged and unable to focus. Oftentimes we feel unsure of what we can even do to make the feeling go away. We can experience different types of boredom depending on the situation, which can stem from feelings of restlessness, apathy, or even aggression. If we’re bored, it doesn’t necessarily mean that we haven’t taken action. We might watch TV, eat a snack, or surf the web to pass the time.

Productivity, on the other hand, is the ability to take concentrated action and feel a sense of progress based on your efforts. It’s about getting things done that give you a sense of pride or accomplishment. You might have scrolled through 100 updates on Facebook, but does that make you productive? More likely, it means that you are bored! All behaviors are not created equal. To be productive, you have to find value in your action.

8 ways to transform your boredom into a productivity booster

Slow down and acknowledge the boredom

We will oftentimes try anything possible to escape boredom. In a study conducted by Timothy Wilson,[1] a social psychologist at the University of Virginia in Charlottesville, undergraduates were given the option to sit alone for 15 minutes with only their thoughts, or give themselves electric shocks. Sixty-seven percent of the men in the study opted to shock themselves, even though they had previously noted that they would pay money to avoid the sensation! This same type of psychology applies to our daily lives too. Have you ever sat down in front of the TV and had a snack, even if you were not hungry? Before you know it, you’ve eaten a full bag of chips. People eat, drink, and engage in all different types of activities out of boredom. By slowing down and recognizing your boredom, you can choose more productive behavior.

Don’t let filler activities overwhelm you 

Oftentimes when we are bored, we can fall into patterns of behavior associated with filler activity, otherwise known as “busy work”. We send text messages, browse social media sites, or pace back and forth. We are physically doing something, but it’s usually a distraction and the behavior does not provide true value to our lives. Ask yourself, “Is my behavior productive? What am I trying to accomplish through this task?” Productive behavior will always be in service to an end goal.

Figure out why you are bored

Now it’s time to get to the root cause of the feeling. What is causing the boredom? Perhaps you don’t know what you want to do or accomplish. Or maybe you do have an idea, but your current job or circumstance doesn’t allow you the time or ability, and your boredom stems from that frustration. It could also be the task at hand that could be causing your boredom. Tasks that are repetitive, too easy, or out of your control can sometimes feel dull! Whatever the reason, label it and move on.

Move toward valued action and novelty

Now that you know what is causing your boredom, you can do something about it and become productive again. What do you need to change about your current environment, circumstance or mindset that will allow you to engage in behavior that will feel valuable to you? If you find yourself bored at your current job, what type of career would make you feel excited and motivated to go to work every day? What actions could you take right now to make that switch?

Twist the boring part to add spice to it

If it’s a particular task that has you feeling bored (like data entry or another small office nuisance), what could you add to the process to make it feel more fun or enjoyable? Perhaps you could make the task into a game. In this example, you could challenge yourself to complete 100 entries within the next hour. Attach small rewards (like a 10 minute walk or a sweet treat) to the outcome of the game. Track your progress and then try to beat your own personal records. This turns uninspired, boring actions into bursts of productivity. Try to find ways to make the circumstance feel new and different to you. This will heighten your engagement, and relieve feelings of boredom.

Some Apps Actually Help

Remove the impulse to revert back to the boredom-triggered “busy work”. There are tons of apps and programs (such as Freedom) that can block Facebook, Reddit, or other distracting websites that you might find yourself visiting to escape the boredom. It’s a habit that you’ll have to break, so don’t be too hard on yourself if your impulse is to engage in the distraction at first. Productivity is a muscle that you will need to flex again and again in order to gain strength.

Turn to the more boring tasks

Try reverting back to an old tip from childhood: remember when you were a kid and you would run up to your mom or dad and complain about being bored? And what was the first thing they would always say? “I have some chores for you to do!” And, as if it were magic, you would run off and find something else to do – it was an automatic cure for boredom! You can use this trick as an adult too. What is the one thing that you’ve been putting off for awhile? Perhaps it’s doing laundry or cleaning the restroom. Start tackling some of those not-so-fun chores. Either A) You will complete them and feel a sense of relief and productivity now that you’ve finished them, or B) You will have a better idea of what you would prefer to do instead.

Look for your genuine motivation

Still don’t know what you want to do? That’s okay. Everyone deserves a break every once in awhile! But if you do desire to be more productive, you’ll have to tap into your hidden source of motivation in order to take action. Try to make a list of the benefits: Who would be proud of you if you took action? Who could you be if you left boredom behind and became productive? Paint that picture in your mind. How would you feel? Jot down these ideas in as much detail as possible, and see if they motivate you enough to take deliberate action.

By using your boredom as a springboard towards productive action, you’ll gain a sense of clarity around how you want to spend your time. We all only have a limited amount of time on earth. To feel bored is to recognize that we are not spending our time in a way that feels fulfilling and connected to our passions. Doing this work will align your actions with your goals and will give you a sense of control over your time and life. Boredom often comes from the nagging feeling that we are wasting our time here on earth. Moving towards more productive thought patterns and behavior will help relieve that pressure.

Reference

[1]^Science: People would rather be electrically shocked than left alone with their thoughts

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