#no money in the world can make up for the pure joy of existing in an orchestra. being Part Of the music

[orcelito]

so apparently what i really need is called a "community orchestra" aka volunteer orchestra where we all have other occupations but also just rly wanna play some music. and there isnt one for where i live :( but there is Definitely one for indianapolis. so like who knows lol if i end up there after college then Maybe

[flightlessangelwings]

His Hers and His- A Messy Pile of Affection story

Frankie Morales x fem!reader x Benny Miller

Word count- 2.3k

Prompts- “What do you think of my last name with your first name?” and the rainbow photo in the moodbard

Warnings- canon compliant (takes place during and after the movie), bisexual mmf thruple, established relationship, mention of canon character death, light angst, lots of fluff, mostly fluff honestly lol, focuses a lot of Frankie and Benny, nondescript s.mut, happy ending, no use of y/n

Notes- MPOA IS BACK!!! I’ve been wanting to write this one for over a year at this point and I figure my pride celebration was the perfect opportunity to finally do it!! This is written so that it can be read on its own but also follows the mpoa storyline. Fic is tagged if you’ve missed previous parts and want to go back and read it all! This is one of the fics I’m the most proud of overall and I’m so attached to this truple!! Enjoy!

@flightlessangelwings-updates​ is my update blog so feel free to also follow and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on when I post!

Moodboard by me!

~

“Are you sure about this baby?” Frankie asked, the anguish apparent in his eyes.

“Yeah,” you exhaled deeply. Your hands trembled.

“We can’t turn this down, baby,” Benny chimed in, “It’s getting the boys back together and one hell of a payday! You know I’m in.”

You looked between them with wide eyes. When the text from Santiago came in late last night, both Frankie and Benny knew how good an opportunity this was. A simple recon mission with a big payout, it should have been a no brainer. And Benny was eager to reply with a yes. But, Frankie seemed more reserved, more tormented over it. You and Benny were his entire life now, and Frankie didn’t want to put any of that in jeopardy. He couldn’t lose Benny… or you…

“I trust you guys,” you finally broke the silence. Frankie could tell you weren't happy about them going, but you also weren’t going to be the one to decide for them, “Just,” you sighed, “Look after each other, ok?” you kissed each of their cheeks, “And both of you betting fucking come back to me.”

Benny grinned widely, “You got it, babe.”

Frankie’s smile didn’t quite reach his face as he wrapped both you and Benny in his arms, “I’ll watch over him,” he kissed you both, “I promise.”

*

“Oh shit I’m gettin’ a Ferrari!” Benny shouted with excitement as he dug through the open walls and pulled out handfuls of cash.

The rest of the guys worked quickly to gather as much of the stash as they could in the short amount of time, and were always alert to any sudden changes within the house.

But Frankie couldn’t help but pause and watch over Benny for a short moment. The pure excitement that was almost childish made his heart flutter, and Frankie glanced around, making sure the area was secure before he lowered his gun more. 

Benny felt his boyfriend’s gaze on him, and he turned around with a big grin on his face, “Baby,” he got Frankie’s attention, “We’re all getting Ferraris,” Benny darted across the room, dropping the money in his hands in favor of cupping Frankie’s face.

Before Frankie could react, Benny placed a big, passionate kiss on his lips. The whole world seemed to stop for a moment, and as their lips connected, it was just the two of them. Nothing else existed, nothing else mattered, just Frankie and Benny, two thirds of a trio that was unstoppable.

“His, hers, and his Ferraris,” Benny murmured against Frankie’s lips before he kissed him again.

“We gotta get home first,” Frankie whispered back as his eyes fluttered open. His heart skipped a beat as he looked into Benny’s eyes as saw all the passion, all the emotions, all the joy written plainly across his face.

“Yeah,” Benny agreed as he took a small step back, bringing them both back to reality, “Let’s get back to our girl.”

“Are you assholes done yet?” Santiago’s voice broke them out of their trance, “In case you forgot, we’re still in the middle of a mission here.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Benny mumbled, “Don’t be jealous, Pope.”

“Ay dios mio,” he mumbled as he went back to gathering the bags of cash.

But, as quickly as things turned up for the boys, everything went sideways. WIll got shot. The family came home. Guards ran through the house. Everything seemed to crash down around them as Frankie, Benny, and the rest of the crew found themselves in the middle of the rainforest, stuck until the storm passed.

They all settled in a ditch for as much cover as they could get and settled in for the night. Frankie and Benny hardly left the other’s side throughout the escape, and it was only to check on his older brother that Benny broke away. He handed Will an apple with a soft smile on his face.

“You’re a good man, Benny,” Will groaned softly through the pain, “Frankie and your girl are both lucky to have you.”

“Thanks, man,” Benny blushed as he looked down on the ground, flustered for a moment. But, he picked his head back up and looked back at Frankie, who sat on the other side of him with a shit-eating grin, “You hear that, Frankie?” Benny snarked, “You’re fuckin’ lucky to have me!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Frankie waved his hand, “Don’t let it go to your head,” he snickered.

But, the playfulness melted away quickly as Frankie looked at Benny, grateful they were both still alive. And Benny’s expression matched Frankie’s as his thoughts mirrored his boyfriend’s. Benny inched himself closer and slid his hand in Frankie’s as he rested his head on his shoulder. Frankie gave his hand a soft squeeze, an unspoken promise to both Benny and to you.

I’ll watch over him… Frankie’s own words echoed in his head.

“You know,” Benny broke the silence after a few moments, “I was thinking of something else we could get with our money.”

“What’s that?” Frankie asked.

Benny picked up his head and grinned brightly at Frankie, “Rings.”

Frankie’s mouth dropped open and his heart pounded in his chest, “His, hers and his rings?” he asked in a hushed tone.

Benny nodded, “What do you think of my last name with your first name?” He paused, “Or we could hyphenate them. Or her last name and your last name. Or all three and make up something new… I don’t give a fuck!” he chuckled, “I just want to be married to both of you.”

Frankie let out a mock gasp, “I always imagined this was how you’d ask me, Ben,” he laughed.

“Man shut the fuck up,” Benny playfully nudged Frankie.

“But yes,” Frankie whispered as he pulled Benny closer, “I want that too… To marry you both,” he placed a soft, sweet kiss on Benny’s lips, “But first, let’s get back to our girl.”

Benny nodded as he settled against Frankie’s body, relaxing in his strong, comforting embrace, “Yeah.”

*

You paced your bedroom nervously. It had been almost a week since you heard from Frankie and Benny, and with every passing hour, you were more and more scared that you’d never see them again. You couldn’t focus on work, you barely slept, hardly ate… All your time was consumed with worry. The nights that you were able to sleep a little were only after you cried yourself to exhaustion.

“Come back to me, guys,” you whispered to your pillow that their scent barely clung to anymore, “You fucking promised me,” your tears turned angry for a moment as you emotions overwhelmed you. 

It was the middle of the night when your phone finally rang. You jumped out of a dreamless sleep and immediately picked up without even looking at the screen, “Frankie?! Benny?!” you gasped.

“Hey baby,” Frankie’s voice immediately soothed you.

“We’re alive, sweetheart,” Benny’s voice sounded more distant, as if Frankie was the one holding the phone and Benny was right next to him.

“Fuck,” you breathed as tears of relief spilled from your eyes before you could stop them, “Holy shit, guys I’ve been fucking worried sick! What happened? Where are you?” you couldn’t help the outburst of emotions after finally hearing their voices after so long.

“We’re ok, baby,” Frankie tried to calm you, and it killed both of them that they couldn’t hold you and tell you that everything was fine.

“Shit went bad,” Benny sounded more serious for once, “But we’re ok.”

“What…?” you tried to ask but your boys interrupted.

“Listen, we don’t have a lot of time,” Benny said, “We just wanted to call you and tell you we're ok.”

“We have a flight out tomorrow,” Frankie spoke next, “We’ll see you soon, baby. Promise.”

For the first time in over a week, you finally felt hope again. You felt like things were alright. Your boys were coming home. You could hold them again, kiss them again. You weren’t going to be alone in your large bed anymore.

“Love you, baby,” Benny’s voice broke you out of your thoughts.

“We love you so fucking much,” Frankie echoed.

“I love you both too,” you wiped away a tear and you sniffled, “Just get back to me ok? And take care of each other, and the guys too.”

*

You wrung your hands together as you stood in the airport. Never had you felt more nervous, and never had time felt like it dragged on than it did in that moment. You stared at the screen, watching for any change on the boy’s flight.

“Shit,” you mumbled to yourself, “Of course it’s delayed.”

Every minute without Frankie and Benny felt like an eternity, and like a stab to your heart. You wished you had never let them go on this mission, but you also knew you couldn’t deny them that if their minds were set. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust them or anything… you were scared. You were terrified. And for a few long days, you were worried your worst fears were about to come true.

It wasn’t until you saw the board change that their plane landed that you finally let out a heavy breath.

No airport reunion held more emotions than when you saw Frankie and Benny walk through the terminal. You gasped as you felt like you were dreaming. They looked tired, like they had been through hell. But, as they walked hand in hand, their faces lit up when they saw you.

All three of you bolted towards each other, and you erupted into a pile of sobs and mumbles and kisses the moment you were close enough. You all wrapped your arms around each other, holding each other as tight as you possibly could. Kisses echoed between the three of you in your little huddle as you all let out sighs of relief in between incoherent mumbles of how grateful you all were to be together again.

“I was so worried, you guys,” you sobbed, “I thought… I thought I might never see you again,” you buried your face on one of their shoulders.

“We told you we’d come back to you, baby,” Frankie murmured.

“We went through shit,” Benny kissed your temple, “But we’re back. We’re here.”

You looked back and forth between your boys, “You’re never fucking allowed to do that again, you hear me!” Soft laughter erupted between the three of you as the tension melted away. “Come on,” you took both their hands, “Let’s go home.” The three of you reunited at last… the world felt like it started to turn again, like the stars were bright in the sky, like food had a taste again… everything was ok now. 

“Home…”

*

That first night was filled with tears and sorrow as Frankie and Benny told you what happened and why they were delayed getting home. You cried with them, holding Benny as he told you what happened to Tom. You knew they went through a lot, and they both were changed men because of it.

But, after a few days, the boys told you they wanted to show you something. Fully trusting them, you let them take you into the car, not knowing where you were going. It didn’t take you long, however, to realize where you were as they pulled into the lake that held a special place in all your hearts.

The sun was out and the fields were a lush green. And, a soft rainbow lit up the skyline in the background, making it the perfect setting. You let out a deep sigh as you remembered the night here that changed all three of your lives forever. This was the place where Frankie told you and Benny that he loved you both for the first time. This was the place where your relationship completely changed for the better.

“What are we doing here?” you asked as you stepped out of the car.

“Well,” Benny sighed as he looked at Frankie, who nodded at him, “We wanted to ask you something…”

“And this is as good a place as ever,” Frankie added with a smile.

Before you could ask what it was, both boys dropped down to their knees, and you let out the loudest gasp as you covered your face. Tears immediately formed in your eyes as Frankie and Benny said your name.

“Will you marry us?” they asked in unison as they opened a simple container.

Inside were three plain rings. Nothing extravagant, not even a small diamond set on any of them. They were just three simple bands that Benny and Frankie picked up from a street vendor before they left. 

“Guys…” you sobbed as they stared at you with pleading eyes, waiting for your answer, “Yes!” you launched yourself at them, toppling all three of you to the ground.

The boys broke out into laughter as you three turned into a tangle of limbs, clumsily trying to hold onto each other as best you could. Frankie was able to reach out and grab the box they dropped and he sat up first, slipping the rings on your finger then Benny’s. Benny’s face was bright as the sun as he took the box and slid the last ring on Frankie’s finger.

“It’s not the rings we hoped for,” Frankie admitted softly, “But…”

“It’s perfect,” you cut him off as you cupped his face, “You’re both perfect,” you turned to Benny and did the same.

“Let’s go home,” Benny said.

The three of you piled back into the car, the mood completely different than before. You all were giddy and happy and excited for the next chapter in your lives. And that excitement carried into the bedroom where you laid tangled in each other for hours. At times, you didn’t know who was inside who as the three of you made love in every position you could. You all were just too desperate to be connected, to feel each other, that it didn’t matter.

Once the three of you were completely spent, you all collapsed into a tangle of sweaty, naked limbs. Heavy breaths filled the room as you all sprawled out across each other. And it was perfect. It was how you three were meant to be. You, Frankie and Benny, together in your messy pile of affection.

[ninchen1909]

Jealousy II

Warnings: few curse words, angst with a happy ending, my not existing knowledge about medical stuff or injuries (blame Grey’s Anatomy)

Word count: 2.400

Hey,

thank you so much for so much positive feedback on the first part, it really meant the world to me, I hope you also enjoy this part.😊🥰

I hope you have a great day, night or whatever

 Erling POV

"I love you"

I sadly watch as the door slams shut behind my girl's back and my whispered words are drowned out by the loud slamming of the door. For what feels like an eternity, I just stand there and look at the now closed door. Everything in me screams to run after her, to bring her back home and sort this whole mess out. But my princess has always been so clear about what she wants and doesn't want, and she's made it perfectly obvious from the start that she needs and wants her freedoms, which is why I suppress my protective instincts as best I can. With drooping shoulders I return to the living room, the annoying voice of the sports presenter penetrates my ears and I can't help but immediately turn off the TV. Suddenly, an oppressive silence fills our house.

Guilt overcomes me like a hot, blazing fire. How could I be so stupid as to insinuate that she would cheat on me? But Jude and (Y/n) got along so well the whole evening, laughing and joking together without a care in the world.  Actually, I should have been happy that they got along so well, but the only thing I could think about in that moment was "What if she finds Jude more interesting than me?". Prettier, smarter just better?" "What if she leaves me for him?". Looking back, these thoughts were idiotic. But in that moment, all the old insecurities came back up and overtook me. (y/n) never gave me a reason to doubt her loyalty or love, never made me feel like she only wanted me for my money or fame. At the end of the day, I can't explain why I reacted the way I did. I can only say that I regret it now, so fucking much. Again and again my eyes fall on the living room clock, my whole body tense, as I wait for her to come back. Everything in me burns to apologize properly to her, to beg for her forgiveness. Nervously I run my fingers through my hair, with every passing minute the tension in me grows and when (y/n) is not back after an hour, the tension turns into pure fear. Heat rises in me and I don't know what to do with myself, again and again my eyes wander to the front door, in the silent hope that she will return any second. But in vain. With a loud sigh I let myself fall onto the sofa, my fingers nervously tangling with each other. Seconds feel like minutes, minutes like hours. But nothing happens, no sign of my girl.  I jolt as the shrill ring of my cell  breaks the unusual silence in our house.

A quick glance at the display triggers joy in me, with quick fingers I answer the call.

"Hey darling, are you on your way home, yet. I really want to tal....?"

"Am I speaking to Mr. Haarland ?"

A friendly sounding female voice rings out to me, but it doesn't cause the same heart palpitations as the voice that usually answers at this number.  

Confused, my eyebrows draw together.

"Yes, you are, but who are you?"

"My name is Ms. Smith, I am calling you because you are listed in this cell phone as the emergency contact for Miss. (y/l/n)."

"Emergency contact? Why does my girlfriend need an emergency contact now?"

My mind is racing, almost desperately trying to suppress the unpleasant thoughts, fear settles in my heart."

"Mr. Haarland, please try to calm down."

My breathing quickens and the phone in my hand begins to shake. Still, I try to take a deep breath and give the woman on the other end line my full attention.

"Your girlfriend was hit by a car...."

My heart stops for a few beats, only to continue beating at double speed. I don't give the woman on the phone a chance to finish her sentence.

"I'll be right there. What hospital is she in?"

As I am still speaking, I make my way to the hallway to put on my shoes.

I internalize the address, which Ms. Smith relays to me before I end the call. Cold sweat forms on my forehead and I feel like I am no longer in control of my body. My teeth sink themselves in the tender flesh of my lip, the strange taste of iron soon fills my mouth.

This is all my fault, if I hadn't overreacted she would never have gone outside. We would be cuddled up on the sofa just enjoying each other's presence, while I would watch her laughing at the ridiculous jokes the characters of our favourite TV-show would  make.

Silent tears stream down my face as I steer the car through the dark streets of Manchester, my fingers clawing almost painfully into the smooth leather cover of the steering wheel.

The drive happens as if I'm in a trance; at that moment, I'm acting as if I'm on autopilot. Without thinking much, I only function to reach my destination.

As soon as I enter the large brick building, the acrid, unpleasant smell of the disinfectant hits me and burns unpleasantly in my nostrils. Hectically I look around. People hurry from one room to another, while others sit quietly in the waiting area, hoping to soon get an update on their loved one. I try to block out all the hectic and the noises witch surround me as best as I can, while I make my way to the reception desk.

An older woman, with dark black hair sits behind the light brown wooden desk as she  looks at the computer screen in front of her with a solid disinterest.  The light blue light reflected in her black horn-rimmed glasses.

Bored, she lifts her gaze as she notice my presence one of her thinly plucked eyebrows shoots up.

"How can I help you?"

Just like her whole expression, her voice makes it seem as if she would prefer to be somewhere else entirely.

"My girlfriend (y/n) (y/l/n), was involved in an accident."

With slow fingers, she types something on the keyboard. Impatiently, I drum my fingers on the cold surface of the table, which earns me an annoyed sigh from the woman in front of me, but i really couldn't care less about her impression about me.

"Your girlfriend is still in surgery right now, please sit down  in the waiting room, a doctor will come to see you when the surgery is finished."

Her voice sounds monotone and cold, as if she has memorized these words.

"Can you tell me something, anything, about her condition?"

Under other circumstances, I'm sure I would have surprised myself at how desperate my voice sounds, but I couldn't give a damn at the moment.

"Do I look like a doctor to you?"

"Listen, I'm sorry to bother you like this, but I love this woman, alright?  I just want to know if my girl is okay. So please, if you know something, let me know"

My words seem to spark something in her, as her hard, unyielding features, are now surrounded by a gentle warmth.

"I'm afraid I can't give you any information about your lady friend's health, but I can guarantee you that the staff at this hospital will do everything they can to help any patient to the best of their ability. And as soon as they can, one of them will be able to give you information, but for that, please go to the waiting area."

Resignedly, I drop into one of the uncomfortable blue chairs before burying my face in my hands. Silent tears leak from my eyes and run straight down over my cheek onto my neck.  

Seconds turn into minutes, minutes into hours, but in this moment time doesn't have any meaning whatsoever. With each passing minute I become more nervous, my hair standing out in all directions, and my eyes aching from all the tears. Again and again I look up hopefully as a doctor enters the room, only to hide my face back in my face, when they pass by me.

Desperately, I watch the other people in the waiting room, as they receive information about their loved ones in surgery. So many different emotions surround me, tears of happiness and sadness, cursing, praying, break downs, people clinging to each other in the hope to find comfort due a touch.

What will my reaction be?

Only after two more seemingly endless hours does a doctor approach me. Her long, brown hair bobs with every step she takes. As quickly as I can, I rise from my chair.

"Mr. Haaland?"

Mutely, I nod as I take her hand, which she holds out to me.

"I'm Dr. Parker, I'm the attending doctor for Ms. (y/l/n)."

"How is my girl? Is she alive? Is she in a lot of pain? When can I go to s.."

"Mr. Haaland, I know a lot has happened, but you need to calm down a bit, all right?"

Again, I can only nod mutely.

"First of all, your girlfriend is alive..."

At that very moment my legs give way and I drop backwards onto the chair, a million stones fall from my heart and I feel like I can breathe properly for the first time in hours.

"Your girlfriend was hit by a car on a crosswalk and got dragged along several meters. As a result, her spleen ruptured and the blood that leaked from it collected in her abdomen. However, we were able to repair this injury thanks to an emergency surgery, the bleeding was stopped and the blood is now being eliminated from the body with the help of medication. In addition, two of her ribs were broken, as well as her left arm. Fortunately, we were able to immediately rule out injuries to the skull, which shows us that Miss (y/l/n) was remarkably lucky. If you ask me, it is almost a miracle that she got off relatively lightly. All the superficial injuries like abrasions and bruises will be gone in about a week or two, the fractures and the spleen injury will take a little longer, but in 9 to 10 weeks, they should be completely healed. Mrs. (y/l/n) will have to stay here for another week or so, but then she will be allowed to leave the hospital, subject to certain rules. She’s still under narcotics right know, but it’s only a matter of time, until she wakes up again.

Happiness erupts in my belly like a firework and tears start to brim in my eyes.

"Thank you so much Doc, you can't imagine how happy you’re making me right now. Can I see her, please?"

I look at her with pleading eyes, only to return the smile she gives me.

"Of course, follow me I'll take you to her."

With quick steps I follow her, down the endless seeming corridors of the hospitals.

As soon as I open the door to her room, the air gets stuck in my lungs. Even though I know my girl will be better soon and she won't suffer any consequential damage, it doesn't make this sight any easier. The steady monotonous beeping of the equipment penetrates my ears, while the bitter smell of disinfectant settles in my lungs. It is with great difficulty that I can hold back the sobs that start to rise. My princess lies bolt upright in the narrow hospital bed, a sterile white varnish envelops the body, which is so familiar to me, her arms lie rigidly next to her torso.

One of them is surrounded by a bulky, white plaster, abrasions extend through her face and neck, only the constant up and down of her chest won't let me completely collapse. I tremble slightly as the doctor speaks in a calm, tender voice. “I’ll leave you two alone now, if anything happens or if you have any questions,  just press the emergency button. ” She points to a small red button at the head of the bed. “I will, thank you. ” “It goes without saying. I wish you both the best of luck”

With these words, she leaves the hospital room, her doctor’s coat waving in the air.. With timid steps, I step up to the bed, only to grab  her small hand. The unusual cold that emanates from it strikes me in the heart and I strengthen my grip around her flesh, in the hope to give her some warmth. “I’m so sorry my darling, I was such an asshole. I let my insecurities get the better of me. You never gave me a reason to doubt your loyalty or love. Please forgive me, I’ll spend my life trying to make it up to you. ”

My voice sounds broken, devastated even. Gently I raise our clasped hands upwards to breathe a tender kiss on the back of her hands, before I lay my head on it.

A uncomfortable Silence falls over the small room, only to be broken, by the soft delicate voice of my angel. “You really were an asshole. ” Surprised , I jerk up my head to look at the beautiful woman in front of me, her eyes radiate exhaustion, the pain meds clearly taking a toll on her. The normally soft and tender  voice now rough and hotter. Instantly I grab the cup of water from the bed side table, before holding it to her lips, carefully I help her drink from it. “I was and I’m so fucking sorry. It’s all my fault, that you lay here. If I wouldn’t have be so stubborn, you wanted to talk about it an I ju…  ” As so often in the last few hours, I can feel the moisture of the tears on my cheeks. A sob escapes my throat, when I fell her soft, tender skin on my cheek, her thumb softly traces patterns on my wet skin. “Babe, it’s not your fault, if anyone is to blame, it’s these wannabe Formula One driver, but not you. We’re in a relationship, we love each other and when you love each other you also fight from time to time. And it’s a sad fact that the people you love the dearest, can anger you the most. I just hope you know I would never cheat on you. ” “Yes, darling, I know, I’m just afraid you’ll wake up one day and realize you could have a better man, one who will always be there for you, who can hold you every night, and not being in another country. One who can always be present in the important moments of your life, in person and not only on Facetime.  ”

Tears stream down my face, while soft sobs shake my body. With a soft grip on my neck, she tugs my body into hers. With her healthy hand she runs up and down my back in a soothing motion. “Shh, it’s alright love, everything is alright. I love you, only you. There will never be a better man in my opinion, you’re it for me.” ” “I love you too. So fucking much.” ” Our lips meet in a gentle kiss, our body’s entangled in each other. After what feels like a eternity our lips separate themselves from each other. I lean my forehead against hers, as I hear a soft chuckle escapes her swollen lips. “ “Well, now  that we’ve  cleared up. . . ” With a gentle movement she’s leaving my embrace, only to create a way to big distance between us. “. . . would you please swing your ridiculously large body into that bed. Even though I’m the one who got hit, you look way more shitty than I do, and trust me, that means something.  So let’s go to sleep. ” Unable to even begin to argue, I strip my shoes off my feet and leave them on the carelessly on the floor, before I gently lie down next to my girl. Always careful not to hurt her. As best I can I wrap my arms around her body and feel her laying her head on my chest. Slowly, one of my hands wanders into her hair, where I start lovingly stroking over it. “Did I tell you, you look really hot even in that weird hospital gown? ” Her hotter, yet beautiful laugh permeates the room. “You are such an idiot. ” “Ha! jokes on you, because I’m your idiot. ” She lifts her head off my chest and looks at me with her beautiful eyes, which are filled with pure, unconditional love. “Yes, that you are. And I couldn’t be more prouder about that. ”

[anathemacore]

what am i even meant to do? every day i wake up and i have no idea what the fuck to do with myself. i'm like an expired library book that's already been read and has no purpose and the person who checked it out abandoned their house and left the book behind. i can just hear everyone's voices, telling me to enjoy this or that, make the best of everything, take it easy, make my purpose, make more art, do whatever it takes and take joy wherever i can, and believe me i do. but it's just tiring. i am so exhausted. no matter how much joy i force myself to derive from life, there is no gratification. there is no purpose. no matter how pure the joy i have is it is empty. i have so much time on my hands that i don't want. i want so bad to work, no one will ever know how desperately i want to have a job. and as soon as i get a job i shut down, the tiny amount of energy i have is sapped and i can't enjoy the money i make and i can never recharge. i run myself into the ground at 100 miles an hour until i physically can't do anything but fall down with the inability to get back up. i fucking hate my life. i hate myself for living. i hate my parents for making me exist against my will. i hate everyone who insists that i keep living, not having any idea how excruciating every second is, or not believing me when i tell them. i hate myself for hating myself. i hate myself for not being able to just magically will myself to have a will to live like everyone is always screaming at me to do. i hate every clown who says that i'm happy just because i'm still alive. there is nothing for me in this world. there is nothing i can do. i'm a smart fucking person, if there was something i could do i would have figured it out since i have nothing better to do than wrack my brain day in and day out. i have things that people insist i should live for. i do, and it doesn't make me any less fucking miserable. i am good at art, i love it, and it brings me joy, and no matter how hard i try to make it it isn't something that effects my quality of life. it means nothing. i have done everything i have been told to do. i have been lectured a thousand times. i have heard everything there is to hear. i have done everything in and outside of my power. and everything i say falls on closed ears because i couldn't possibly really being doing that bad, i'm obviously being dramatic because i'm crazy, but not crazy in a way that warrants help, no, just crazy that deserves gaslighting and invalidation. i have fought tooth and nail for any scrap of what everyone else has warehouses full of, and have come up empty while they mock me for not having a warehouse.

[cosmichighpriestess]

Woe to our enemies. Woe to our oppressors. Can you handle the amount of evil eye from all the people who wanted to see us fail? Who looked down upon us for years? Because God is going to make us an example, of what ascended human beings are capable of being. God is going to bless us in front of our enemies. Can you stay unbothered and grateful?

Can you stomach the table that God has made in front of your oppressors in front of your bullies and gaslighters? They laughed at you and talked badly about you behind your back for years. They really thought no one was looking over their shoulder while they obliterated your name in the dirt.

They thought you were a joke because you are not a mindless sheep trying to fit in. You are the real deal. From black sheep to golden child of God. Your authenticity is a trigger for them. You are the generational curse breaker. Your name holds weight in high places and they are just background characters in your story. They are nothing without you in their lives. Their money and status doesn't buy happiness. Their facades don't fool you. There is no one else like you. You are one of none.

They laughed at you while you were going out of your way to help them. They laughed at you because you mentioned the word God. They judged you and thrived off your suffering. They acted like you didn't even exist because your presence exposed their insecurities and lies. Because you could see right through them, through their lies and manipulation. They projected their shame and guilt on to you instead of eating their own shit. You don't have trust issues. They have lying issues. Their whole foundation is built upon lies, they will lose everything they stomped on others to get. They all fall down. The bad guys lose and you will win because your foundation is built upon truth and unconditional love.

They can't handle the mirror you hold up to them. They treated you like you were gum on their shoe. They judged you, they said you were unmotivated and lazy while you were going through heavy spiritual warfare every week and debilitating ascension symptoms. You're not broke your money is just pending, you're a multi-millionaire. You are not sleeping on yourself, you are resting until you shock the world with your presence. The entire time you were leveling up and upgrading, raising the collective consciousness but they perceived it as you being crazy, weak and mentally ill.

Even though you had to drag yourself out of hell a thousand times by yourself. They couldn't walk a mile in your shoes without tapping out. You took their shit and you made flowers, they stomped all over your house with their muddy shoes and you cleaned it up every single day while you forgave them like it was nothing. You forgave them and you gave them the benefit of the doubt because that energy doesn't belong to you.

You were as quiet as a mouse, when you could have humiliated them and exposed them for who they really are underneath their mask. Who will be laughing and unbothered in the end? You. God is exposing their betrayal their lies, they won't have a second of peace from their demons by the time God is done with them.

The demons they sent for you are turning around and causing chaos in their lives. They misjudged you severely. They used and abused you and you never compromised your morals because you are so pure and have always operated in integrity. They literally wished death upon you. They planned for your demise. So some of them may pass away from what they wished for a divine one. The scales are finally balancing out. Feel those feelings of betrayal.

Feel those feelings of anger, rage, sadness and pain. So your angels can take them from you and give you peace and joy. You are supported and loved by all the right ones and envied and hated by all the wrong ones for you. Your ancestors are so proud of you. They feel so much pride right now for you. You won the war. Your pain did not go unnoticed by God. When you wake up tomorrow morning the curses will be gone. Watch how God moves in your life.

Congratulations, you won, you get everything your enemies could only dream of, things they have always wanted. You will never have to worry about your bullies again, they mistreated a real one and they are about to find out who you really are. Do you want to know why it has been so hard for you to speak up? Because it is a spiritual attack and it is not your fault that you have trouble expressing yourself so don't blame yourself. They don't want you to tell your side of the story.

Their opinion of you does not stop God from blessing you. They earned a place out of your life forever. Accept their apologies but remove trust. They showed you who they were the first time, believe them. Anything other than pure authenticity and a genuine apology is a mask they are wearing. Apologies without changed actions is manipulation. They left you for dead. They left you for the wolves to devour you. I am not telling you to hate them. I know because of your heart, you love them and always will. Forgive them. Forgive yourself but remember why they are not aligned with you and why you know not to trust them anymore. Love them from afar now.

Just watch and sit still, have some tea and watch the movie while God handles your enemies because that responsibility was never your burden to carry. Stop beating yourself up. You didn't do anything wrong, you reacted to mistreatment like anyone would. Man will condemn you, but God will forgive you. You are protected by demons, respected and protected by Angels. I love you, you are so loved and so perfect in the eyes of God. Be patient while the instructions from Source/God reveal themselves. Thank you cursebreaker for your service to humanity and raising the frequency of the entire planet.

[un-onnie-mousse]

The Tale of Life that Lasts

The knowledge of the immortal Raconteur, is mine treasure, Mine to tell and trade with them with pleasure, Now on this day, a perfect place to do so, The current seeker is a little boy, you know, Little feller, seeking from my vast treasure, He holds up a little animal, too tired to even utter a yelp. He pleads with the Raconteur for its life, it is to be dealt, "Please," quoth the little boy, "Help." Now, little boy, it seems there is a lot to aid in this world. AndTo the Raconteur, teller of tales, for all the help there is a price to be paid, Come on boy, let there be a game well played. An eye for an eye, a life for a life is my trade. For all is said and all is done, are you ready to take the stake? "Please," quoth the little boy, firmly, "Help." There is only little that I ask my dear fellow, I trade in tales, a tale for a tale. Some advice to a villager's gossip and bale. Imperial's secrets for a poison remedy, Some gossip in exchange for advice for the money, An admission of guilt to a path of success, But a life, for a life, what may you confess? "Please," quoth the little boy, lips quivering, "Help." The Raconteur, shall not ask for something unattainable, But a life is not something granted, almost un-payable. The balance is delicate you see; lives are so different, Unique, that once it is lost, the hole cannot be fixed. Now the boon I ask, is a tale, like all the payments I deal. "Please," quoth the little boy, determined, "Help." "My pet," the boy starts, "A man's best friend, a woman's trusted companion, A ray of sunshine during the darkened days. My loyal friend, if I lose, is a dread I cannot bear. The friendship we share is so pure, one-of-a-kind, And if I can, I would like to put it to the test to time. Eternity, in what I see, is filled with happiness, Once where pain and suffering are little, The satisfaction is no longer brittle, In the canvas of life afterwards, I only hope is, bright A timeless joy and contentment are my heart's delight. If I lose my best friend, there will be a hole made in my heart, One where only the spirit exists, but the soul long departed. If knowledge fills your heart, my pet and its love fill mine, The earn for knowledge like you have is similar to what I earn from my pet. For your satisfaction, you hear tales and trade them for more, But for me, I cannot trade another pet for my best friend. No." The little one played all the cards he dealt. "Please," quoth the little boy, strongly, "Help." Thank you, lassie, for the tale of your loyal pet. However, I must admit, eternal life is not what you expect. It is the endless retelling of tales that go from ear to ear, And live in spirit to all those who would hear. Your ailing pet will survive this tide fret not. However, all good things don't last forever, I'm afraid not. For this beautiful tale of friendship, I shall trade in the remedy. Eternal life is when I shall repeat it every time to gain the knowledge I need. The eternal life is not living until the end of time The trick is to be remembered forever not to remember forever. The friends we make, the family we nurture, The memories we imprint and the legacy we continue, Life is not be lived to the extent but to the extent in spirit we must live, A life for a life is the most primitive way to cost, And to live forever is a silly thing to wish for. But for you, lassie, you will forever hear your pet yelp. “Thank you,” quoth the boy, “For your help” And when the sun sunk below the horizon’s bend, The pet was revived to his loyal friend. With newfound energy for the joy of life. The pet and the lad had only a few more moments together, Moments, that they will cherish forever. The Raconteur set out on his path well-trod, Satisfied to tell many, from his collection vast, The eternal story of love to last.

End

[castellcnos]

Welcome to Aurora Bay, [RICARDO CASTELLANOS]! I couldn’t help but notice you look an awful lot like [PEDRO PASCAL]. You must be the [FORTY THREE] year old [DIRECTOR OF PUBLIC SERVICES]. Word is you’re [INTELLIGENT] but can also be a bit [RIGID] and your favorite song is [OCEAN AVENUE BY YELLOWCARD]. I also heard you’ll be staying in [CRYSTAL COVE CONDOMINIUMS]. I’m sure you’ll love it!

TW: Affair, alcohol abuse

BASICS

Name: Ricardo Castellanos Gender/Pronouns: Cismale/He&Him Sexual/Romantic Orientation: Bisexual Age: 43 Birthdate: 28th August Occupation: Director of Public Services

ABOUT

Ricardo grew up in Dallas, Texas to a working class family. His father was an engineer while his mother prided herself on being head of the PTA at his school. Something which Ric would have rather preferred her not to be, as it made for some highly embarrassing moments, especially when he attempted his rebel phase.

In high school, he was an avid swimmer and on the track team. Despite giving off an unbothered appearance, he actually did care about his grades and was able to earn himself a scholarship to Berkeley, California. He enrolled onto the Management, Entrepreneurship, & Technology Program in hopes of one day making a name for himself, and being responsible for some change in the world.

Similar to high school, he seemed unphased about academics whilst at college and would often be found passed out around and on campus benches or barely conscious in his lectures, after too many keg competitions the night before. He became known as the party king and if you ever even suggested a get together, he would be there and probably providing the booze.

He met his college sweetheart in his third year, and they both thought it was true love. She was the only one that could out drink him, so he decided he'd marry the girl one day. And it didn't take them long, because a year after graduation, they did.

During this point, they had settled down in Aurora Bay, California, after much deliberation on finding a town that was idyllic, and could provide safety any children they chose to have to grow and thrive.

He got a job interning alongside the local government, learning everything he could in hopes of one day potentially running for mayor — simply to be on top.

However, things took a different path when several years later he was offered the role of becoming the director of public services. He didn't necessarily care too much about the botanical gardens, the parks, museums, anything else that provided joy to the people — but the money was good, and it was a step in the right direction. He'd still have some power, and he could use it to his advantage.

He wasn't a good husband, and he'd have numerous affairs. There was a time when he'd been so in love with his wife, but as the years went on, he'd grown bored and her lack of enjoyment in their relationship mirrored his, and it got to a point where they were purely just co-existing together.

However, there was still a possessiveness there. When she began coming home late herself, as he did some nights, Ric would become jealous — knowing that she'd found company, other than his desolate one.

They would argue terribly, both accusing the other of cheating and when they'd finally reached some sort of conclusion, that yes, they were both as bad as each other, they decided to file for divorce the next day.

Although he knew this was for the best, he still was saddened by the wasted years and not having someone at home waiting for him, as toxic as they were. He fell into a depression of sorts, and he'd often choose to battle his demons with a bottle of whiskey at whichever bar was willing to serve him.

He moved in with his college roommate and best friend, Ben, at Crystal Cove Condominiums, and tried to carry on as though he wasn't affected by this transition into divorcee life. But he didn't do a very good job at hiding it.

He swore to Ben that he'd only be crashing in his spare room for a month while him and his ex-wife sold their house and he found somewhere new. He paid his own way, sharing in rent and bills. But he enjoyed the company too much and before he knew it, six months had flown by and he hadn't even began researching properties to move into. He hoped Ben hadn't noticed.

@aurorabayaesthetic

[squeakyfir]

I'm your huckleberry (Tombstone 1993) (Doc Holliday)

Description:

The joys of modern inventions and miracles are often taken for granted. Your hungry or thirsty? Get something from the fridge or make it. You need to go somewhere? Drive or call an uber. Your hurt? Go to the doctor.

Your bored? Watch a movie, play video games, watch videos on the internet, talk to people without ever leaving your house.

Some much time is in our hands... but back in the 19th century... you wouldn't last very long.

Diseases are rampant, gun violence is higher, no modern technology, barely any good medicine, almost all of your favorite food doesn't exist and most of the people are rude as hell. But... That doesn't mean all of them were so bad. Love was not something most people in this time really cared about. At least, in the town of Tombstone, Arizona.

After falling asleep with a nice looking stone you bought at a small stand at the carnival, your whole world becomes the opposite. Six people from the past discover you unconscious and alone in the blistering heat and offer help but it was their help that let you meet the most amazing man you've ever met.

John Henry "Doc" Holliday.

Chapter 6

Previous ~ Next

All that was happening made you start to enjoy the night life here in Tombstone. Everyone was drinking and enjoying themselves. Doc had gotten you a drink and you stood next to him while Wyatt was dealing the Faro table. He was doing a great job with earning more money at each game. "Well, were in the money buisness now" Wyatt said as he was counting his deeds at the bar. "Were turnin' into regular tycoons". Both you and Doc and Morgan were with him. "Think I'll call this one the Mattie Blalock. Mattie'd get a kick outta that one. That's her maiden name".

"And what a maiden. Pure as the driven snow, I'm sure" Doc said and then taking a drink.

"Hey, Doc, come on".

"It's just his style Morg" Wyatt said, "He doesn't mean anything". Wyatt had finished counting his deeds and you all made your way to another section of the bar through the crowd with Doc making sure you were right beside him. "Tell me something, my friend. I'm curious. Do you actually consider yourself a married man, forsaking all others" Doc asked to Wyatt.

"Yeah, pretty much. I mean, I was no angel when we met, but neither was she. People can change, Doc. Sooner or later, you gotta grow up".

"Where the hell is the fun in that" you asked. They all just quietly laughed at that remark. They all did automatically agree that growing up was essential but it also meant losing some things. "I see" Doc said, "And what would you do if she walked in here" Doc asked to Wyatt.

"She"?

"You know damn well who I mean. That that dusky-hued lady satan, that's who".

"Oh, I'd probably ignore her".

"Ignore her"?

"I'd ignore her" Wyatt clarified. "People can change Doc".

"I'll remember you said that" Doc said and then clinked his glass to Wyatt's glass. Wyatt was confused and was about to ask what he was talking about but then heard clapping and cheering. You all turned to look and it was the same woman who played the devil in the play wearing a nice silver dress. "Aw hell" you heard Wyatt utter.

"Oh, watch this, Morgan. This'll be hilarious" you said getting close to him with your newly poured drink. Morgan watched as the actress was being danced around the room and stopped right in front of you four. She smiled at Wyatt, gave a bow and asked for a dance. But all Wyatt did was turn away from her to see you and Morgan watching all this. The actress looked a bit upset at that but Sheriff Behan had approached her from behind and offered her a drink, to which she gladly accepted.

"Satisfied" Wyatt asked to Doc.

"I stand corrected, Wyatt. You're an oak".

You all started to make your way back to the Faro table and you whispered to Morgan, "I can see he wants to get in her pants, so badly". Morgan immediately started laughing and caught the attention of Wyatt and Doc. He wheezed for a moment and couldn't believe you said that. "What's wrong" Wyatt asked.

"Nothin'. Nothin'" Morgan replied and finally got his breath back. "What did she do" Wyatt asked annoyed. You played the innocent game. "I didn't do anything".

"Oh, I'm sure you didn't" he said sarcastically as you continued onward with you and Morgan silently laughing with each other. Once you all got back to the Faro table, more of the actor's had come inside the Saloon and they were cheered for their performances. It wasn't until a few cowboys came inside that things got a bit intense. A man had approached the Faro table and had asked for Wyatt Earps autograph. Just when Wyatt handed it back to the man, a cowboy had snatched the autograph and made the man back off.

"Wyatt Earp, huh? Heard of you".

Another cowboy came over to the Faro table and got close to his face to be all intimidating. "Listen now, Mr. Kansas law dog. Law don't go around here, savvy"?

"I'm retired" Wyatt said calmly.

"Good" said the cowboy who snatched the autograph. "That's real good" and then he placed some playing chips on the table.

"Yeah. Yeah, that's real good, law dog, 'cause law just don't go around here" said the cowboy who was trying to be intimidating.

"Yeah I heard you the first time. Winner to the king, $500" said Wyatt and Morgan handed over said amount of money. One of the cowboys was now staring at you and Doc but he was more focused on Doc. "Shut up, Ike". At this point, the whole Saloon was watching all of this happening and no one barely made a sound.

"You must be Doc Holliday" said the cowboy who was staring at you and Doc. Doc coughed a bit and replied, "That's the rumor".

"You retired too"?

"Not me. I'm in my prime".

"Yeah, you look it". Doc took another drink. "You must be Ringo. Look darlin', Johnny Ringo" he said looking at you and pointing at Johnny Ringo. "The deadliest pistoleer since Wild Bill, they say. What do you think, darlin', should I hate him"?

"You don't know him" you said quietly.

"No. That's true, but, I don't know, there's just somethin' about him. Somethin' 'round the eyes. I don't know. Reminds me of... me". Doc took a glance at you and saw you were getting a bit nervous. "No. I'm sure of it, I hate him".

"He's drunk" Wyatt said to try and keep things calm.

"In vino veritas" Doc said. It was definitely in another language.

"Age quod agis" Johnny replied. Doc perked up and they started to speak to each other in this language and than Johnny placed his hand on his gun which made Doc gently push you to the other side of him, right beside him and Wyatt. "In pace requiescat" Doc said.

"Come on, boys" said Fred White who came over to make sure things would stay calm. "We don't want any trouble in here, not in any language".

"That's Latin, darlin'. Evidently, Mr. Ringo is an educated man. Now, I really hate him".

Johnny then quickly pulled his gun out and aimed it at Doc. You flinched and tried to remain calm. "Easy, Johnny. I hear he's real fast" said one of the cowboys. Johnny reaimed his gun at Doc by twirling it which made some patrons laugh but Johnny then looked at you. Looks like he wants to show off. He started twirling his gun around his hand with ease, making everyone cheer him on to keep going. He made it look so simple as he finished it off by having his gun land in his holster making everyone cheer.

You looked at Doc and after he exchanged a glance at you, he did the same thing. Only this time, with a small metal cup. The same moves that Johnny did only Doc was doing this to mock him which made some people laugh, you especially. He finally finished doing his little show off making people cheer as well and you saying, "Ha! Suck on that"!

The cowboys stopped dead in their tracks since they were about to leave and walked right back to the Faro table. "Now who's whore is this" asked the cowboy who stole the autograph.

"I'm not your mother".

A lot of people gasped at your remark and Wyatt gave you a gentle nudge to back off but Doc was already enjoying this. "The hell did you say to me"?

"You heard me you filthy mother-fucker"!

That cowboy reached for his gun but Doc was much faster than him and drew his gun. "Hang on, Bill. Johnny, that could be the woman for you" said the cowboy known as Ike. Johnny made Bill lower his gun and then spoke to you. "I thought only woman actors wore pants. But you" he let out a breath, "Those clothes really make your feminine side pop out". He motioned to your breasts and he and the other cowboys laughed. You could then feel Doc use his other hand to pull you close to him while still keeping his gun drawn. "That won't be necessary. I'm not a sharin' man" Doc said.

You got as close as you could to Doc and still held onto your bravery to tell these men to leave you alone. "Come on, gentleman" Fred White said. "Let's let this go". The cowboys mentally agreed but before Johnny left, he said to you, "When your done with this fool, come and find me". He walked away and Doc lowered his gun but still kept you close. "Drinks are on me" Bill yelled which made everyone cheer.

"You alright" Morgan asked you.

"Yeah. I'm fine".

"Don't do that ever again" Wyatt said. "If we weren't in here, they would've killed you".

"They deserved it. They're idiots".

"I know they're idiots but they would've killed you. Just stay close to us and they won't hurt you" Wyatt said. Doc had released you but you still stayed close to him. The night had ended and Wyatt had to count the money they earned so he instructed Morgan and Doc to safely escort you back to his cottage. They stood on each side of you like bodyguards and kept their eyes peeled in case any cowboys were out and about. Luckily, none weren't out and they got you back.

Unfortunately, the only place for you to sleep is on the sofa, so after Morgan gave you a blanket and placed the pillows at the end of the sofa for you. You thanked them both and went right to bed by collapsing onto the sofa. They couldn't help but smile. God, you were strange but still enjoyable nonetheless.

[deux-jared]

my review (more like ramble) of The Menu

the three aspects: class, capitalism, and cuisine

very much so spoilers

the menu

Class:

I could talk forever on what each characters represented, their own personal sins and how it reflects common behavior in the world. but that’s easy to pick up. so onto bigger ideas. very much so is this movie a rich vs poor. that’s made almost too clear.

best part is when the chef asks felicity what school she went to and if she has student loans. that’s what it feels like. that’s actually literally what it feels like. the song silver platter by john grant. broken pieces of furniture that won’t be replaced. wearing through your shoes. there’s a sort of heaviness that seems to come along with the word college itself. what it means. what it takes. what it gives.

the chef seems to not make a class distinction based purely on wealth, but instead on role. givers and takers. if you find yourself asking which you are, don’t keep yourself up over it. we are all both. the chef is conceited in the idea that his art of cooking is above all. that to serve food is the greatest job. he’s right of course. Perhaps the World Ends Here by Joy Harjo. “No matter what, we must eat to live. The gifts of earth are brought and prepared, set on the table. So it has been since creation, and it will go on.” but he is foolish to cast himself into this spotlight role. he is not serving anyone dinner, hasn’t for what seems to be awhile. he is serving art. food is art. but art is not always food. there are other roles it has to fill to be both and these dishes just don’t fill that. it doesn’t make them lesser. it does make him lesser in the social hierarchy.

the movie chooses to , ever so graciously, look at women’s rights. and lately. it feels like that means something more than it should. i don’t want to count the amount of times each day i feel pain from it all. in an unshareable and indescribable way. the parts about disrespect, sex work, infidelity, work status, even money itself. they did not go unnoticed. it was pleasurable. perhaps too much so. to see the look on Kathrine’s face when she stabbed the chef and proceeded to say nothing. she exist under him, under the structure he executes. but she got that moment. and in a way, she owned her death too, which no other character can say.

however i don’t understand the man chase thing though, that had no consequences and was clearly used as a plot device to get the women to bond but then it like didn’t even matter that they did. and margot sharing her true identity was meaningless beyond some feminist idea about identity being regulated by circumstance or men or work and the other women feeling a stronger connection to her.

Capitalism:

what stands out about the chef isn’t that he hates the world he lives in. many, many people do. it’s his high status that contrasts this sentiment. he blames these rich people for ruining his art, but the transaction goes both ways. he himself failed at what he set out to do, and is now unhappy with the results. he took a wrong turn along the way.

the chef is, and bear with me now, capitalism.

we like to think of the men on top as these horrid monsters. it makes things easier to take in. the cloaked figure in a storybook or the black man on the news. but of course that’s not how it is, that’s not really how the human mind works. and i truly believe that those men who decided to make all these choices in global government, those who have altered history for the worse, meant for the best. of course they thought that free market was a good idea, it looks perfect on happy. trickle down economics, eugenics, war itself. we are quick to trick ourselves into thinking we’re making the right choice because that’s the easiest thing for our minds.

none of the guest thought they deserved any punishment. it never occurred to them they were being rude or unkind. and it never occurs to the chef when he is in the wrong. but he made this place. he set these prices. he signed the contracts. and in turn these people show up. it is in this same way capitalism fails.

there’s a moment in a car that’s sliding off the edge of a cliff , and i know this because i was once in a car sliding off the edge of a cliff. where you know that what you once could have done, you no longer can do. you could have made the turn differently, could have loaded the trailer less, could have not made the fucking trip at all. but this doesn’t occur to you until the back wheel is teetering and none of it even matters anymore. it’s not about what happens after, because the after will always come. in death and in life. it’s about knowing that you were not always as helpless as you are in the moment. it’s digging your own hole. pandora opening the box. the first sight of the gun. the last note of the song. how does it feel to know that this is what you had coming. in a way, to me at least. that is what the menu is about. you made the reservation, now dine.

i did not die that night. obviously. nor was that the night that car got totaled. and that slightly convoluted rescue story is one of humanity. doomsday comes when there is no longer another person who cares. no longer humanity.

the chef’s biggest gripe seems to be with the destruction of craft for money. the pressure to succeed (the sous chef’s suicide represented by a pressure good dish), the fear of replacement (elsa’s needless self caused death), selling out (the horrible movie the actor did), empty knowledge over skill / romanticization of a craft rendering it over-commodified to the point of reservation or god forbid obscurity (tyler). these are all very real issues , among many of they other negative undertones of the modern work force. and why do all these issues seem to arise ? capitalism. sell sell sell, and then you end up selling the craft itself. they lost a love a cooking because they were no longer cooking to cook, or ever to serve or please. they were cooking because they were expected to (this statement is debatable, the specific motives for the cooks’ depression is probably even nonexistent. this is a guess based on the ending and the expressed emotions). margo breaks the cycle of what is expected by honestly asking for what she wants. and for what she knows the chef wants to make. she brings humanity back into the transaction, and is thus freed.

but also in careers, sometimes the passion leaves. and that is normal. and healthy. what is wrong is the stagnation. you’re stuck here. now what. no way back no way out it often feels. you spent a life time earning this, and now there is nothing left. single skill workforce layout is killing us as a people god bless that’s just more of a person rant didn’t have to do much with the movie. i want a multifaceted skill set so so so bad.

Cuisine:

i guess this is what the movie is actually about. or what stands out the most. it is also my favorite part. margot seems to take the stance that the chef’s meals are bad. but that’s because she’s judging them wrong. as previously detailed, the food is more art than food. she is disappointed because she expected dinner and was given a show instead.

my favorite part is the (short lived) mentions of biome based cuisine. while it’s only shown at the beginning and never really specifically backed up, the concept of having an island where all your ingredients are naturally sourced is incredible. wonderful set up for a commune. secondly, the role that geography And environment plays in customary cuisine is fun to look at. what things do the people around you usually eat and how does that connect to the natural ingredients in the area. it’s how costal places have sea heavy diets. but on a far more detailed scale. you use a lot of mint in your food because the neighbors grow too much. you have the farmers market walnuts that the orchard in the county happens to grow. it’s even making a lot of dips because down the street the corner shop is known for their homemade tortilla chips. there’s are connections that have mostly been lost due to corporate structure and industrialization. but still thrive in the earthly nature of biome cuisine. it’s something to not only think about, but apply to your own lifestyle.

the class connection to cuisine. not something i’ve heard talked about but something i Very much so think about. especially in relation to health and quality of life. while consuming food is something all humans have in common, the type of food is wildly different. not serving bread is not only to show that the food they’re eating that night can’t be accessed by lower classes. but also giving them a taste of their own medicine. they are denied food that is out of their class, as many of us are every day.

and there’s also the history of bread being told. there’s a sharp contrast between the types of food eaten by different classes. qualities like nutrition and being filling are valued more than taste. my favorite food, my friday night go to, is the $6 wendy’s taco salad. all the food groups in one meal. and for under ten bucks. it’s ground breaking. no working class person is considering some pieces of high quality meat or delicately placed vegetable cubes a good meal for many reasons.

this is in part that margot seems to get right. the importance of food beyond aesthetic and artistic value. there’s a joy that comes from survival, the monkey core of the brain being appeased. and that’s part of what filling food provides. there’s also comfort food. which reminds us of better times, of fond memories, of the family who we have shared table and plate with. by asking for a cheeseburger, margot is not only being honest about her dislike of the menu in a way no other guest is. but she’s also giving the chef the chance to do something he hasn’t done in a long time. bring joy and comfort. help someone. literally serve instead of artistically serve. it’s the feeling of making a pot of soup for your friends or serving lasagna at the homeless shelter. you’re doing this to provide. not to show off. when the class based hierarchy of “fancy” cuisine burns to the ground, we will still have food. the food of our childhood and of our environment.

final thoughts:

if i was to die. i hope it would be this way. given or taking i don’t care. to finale become the art, just like we’re never supposed to, it’s the darkest wish fulfilled. just thinking about it makes me go wild with the pain of want.

[elsternwick-rp]

Emotional Energy

As you may have seen, Elsternwick is currently inundated with emotions in raw energy form due to a strange phenomena, among other things, including weakened walls between universes, there are a variety of strange effects taking hold of a roughly five mile radius around Elsternwick!

This has caused the atmosphere to change color, numerous buildings to gain extra features that weren’t there before, and also cause problems due to emotional states of people within Elsternwick, such as summoning creatures, creating buildings around the affected party, or even changing their form.

What exactly is Emotional Energy? Not even the council knows, but it is every single possible emotion in pure energy form, perhaps it crystalizes, perhaps it takes the form of an unnatural growth upon a building, maybe it’s simply changed the color of the sky, or  maybe it’s hanging around a character like a spirit. It can take many forms.

And due to that, the applications for it in RP scenarios are quite versatility!

While Emotional Energy will not go away once Emotions Run High comes to its conclusion, it will still remain as a possible plot hook, should you remain interested

There’s so many applications that we on the Elsternwick Moderation team felt like listing some examples of emotions, how they could be characterized, and what they could possibly due!

Important:  These are simply examples of some emotions you could use in RP, as well as potential applications, you don’t have to follow all of these to the letter. There are no limits on how you can use these in RP! They could manifest in completely different ways due to the muse affected, and you could tailor them to fit accordingly! Feel free to experiment and get creative!

Anyway, onto the emotions and some potential plot hooks and applications (Feel free to suggest more or put some spins on existing ones!)\

Anger - Can be characterized as pure red flames,  could start as small embers but can explode into a big problem, can be put out by either enchanted water or calmness and joy. Could also potentially be characterized as rising steam and heat!

Sadness - Can be characterized by clear blue water, usually in the form of Heavy Rain clouds, can be diffused by compassion and support

Fear - Can be characterized by hazy green smoke, takes the form of what ones fears most. Can be diffused by courage and hope

Disappointment - Crushing pressure which solidifies into rocks hanging above, making it hard to move, and harder still to push them off. Can be lightened by comfort.

Comfort - Softer than any pillow, manifests as something the muse loves and is comforted by. Too much comfort can result in the muse falling asleep for an extended period of time. Is easy to diffuse with any negative emotion

Disgust - Can be characterized by Waste Isolation Pilot Plant-style horrifying architecture and pictographs of Sickness and Contagion (Added by Cecil!)

Joy - Spontaneous Flowers blooming, Fireworks, can also manifest as nostalgic elements such as toys, party supplies, etc.  (Added by Cecil!)

Despair - Stabbing hopelessness and apathy often characterized by purple glass shards that spread across the landscape and skin, can be defeated by hope unending. (Added by Marina!)

Hope - Buoyant hope that cannot be brought down, uplifting one through tough terrain. Can be characterized by bubbles and feathers to raise one up. (Added by Cecil!)

Greed - Unending want for everything in the world, money, power, the latest 5* character in a Gacha game.  Can be characterized by a strong magnetic pull. Too much greed can transform your muse into a dangerous dragon like Fafnir of old!

Wanderlust - A strong desire to explore and see the unknown transforms the world around it. Mundane places become giant unexplored lost temples and forests that aren't on any map. Only satisfying the wonder can diffuse this

Chaos/Impulsiveness - A desire for chaos, mayhem, unpredictable things! Can manifests as a wild array of colors that don't match together. Too much Chaos may summon a Mogwai or a Gremlin!

Hatred - Pure, unrelenting anger and hatred directed towards someone or something. Can often manifest as unbreakable and unburnable brambles of thorns. If left unchecked, can create fast spreading slime that can create more ( Suggested by Vin!)

Courage -  A strong desire to push past fear and to be a shield for others. Manifests as a warm, burning flame that shields one against the dark.

Love - Unflinching love and kindness directed towards someone or another. Manifests as rays of light and bubbles that rise up int the air. But can also manifest negatively as grasping hands that grab and never let go. (Suggested by Hen!)

Obsession - Sometimes ties with Greed. Can manifest as numerous, long, spindly hands, hands, or chains that grasp and and reach for what they feel is theirs and should be theirs.

Loneliness - A strong feeling of being alone. Depending on the muse, it can manifest as a desire that they deserve to be alone and isolates them further from others, or that they no longer want to be alone, which results  in others being drawn towards them

Apathy - Surroundings/objects take on a plastic texture and feel, the muse themself might also begin to take this on, though, they are still animate and living. In extreme cases they may become a living toy or machine. (Suggested by Vin!)

Intrusive Thoughts 2.0 - Textbox popups follow the muse, presenting them nagging doubts, fears, or self criticisms. This one isnt tied to a particular emotion, because it can be anything from guilt/shame to anxiety to an overly critical internal voice. (Suggested by Vin!)

As mentioned, these are examples, you’re free to come up with one, experiment with one listed here, or just try something else, there’s a multitude of applications and we look forward to whatever you might do with them!

[lifechanyuan]

Gratitude: The First Element of LIFE’s Sublimation

Xuefeng

Deformities lack beauty and make us feel unutterably upset and irritable or even disgusting. This is not a man-made feeling, but an instinctive rejection response like a physical allergic reaction to certain substances.

Those without gratitude have deformed LIFE structures, and this is the reason why we dislike and even hate some people.

LIFE is a non-material structure which can be either deformed and unbalanced or perfect and symmetrical. LIVES with more perfect and symmetric structures live in higher spaces of LIFE, while LIVES with more deformed structures live in lower ones.

All animals have LIFE structures which are less perfect than those of human beings, so they can only survive at animal levels, while humans with perfect human natures and standards are celestial beings, and live in higher-level spaces such as the thousand-year world and the ten-thousand year world because their LIFE structures are superior to those of mortals and laities. It is like gases that exist at different levels of the atmosphere; the troposphere, stratosphere, mesosphere, ionosphere, and exosphere.

Life’s ultimate goal is to evolve into higher-level spaces of LIFE which result from the sublimation of one’s LIFE. This sublimation of LIFE means letting one’s own LIFE non-material structure transit into perfection. How does one transit? Gratitude!

Who and what should we be grateful for? Here are eight with reasons for each:

Thank the Greatest Creator for giving us bright eyes to enjoy our beautiful universe with starry skies, rivers, lands, and all the trees and flowers; ears to enjoy the splendid melodies of the nature; love and affection between men and women to enjoy physical and emotional pleasures which are blissful slices of heaven; who designed and created the free but invaluable air and rivers of pure water; and who allows our easy survival and reproduction. We are bathed in sunlight and moistened by rain and dew, so how could we not thank the Greatest Creator？

Thank Jesus Christ for his favour when he came into the mortal world to ATONE for us with his precious life and brought hope to our suffering lives, then thank Buddha, Mohammed (PBUH), and Lao Tze, for their favor. Their wisdom resolves our inner sadness, sublimates our humanity, maintains our human dignity, and gives us inexhaustible and precious spiritual values.

Thank your parents for their kindness, who exerted tremendous effort to bring you up, whose love is so heavy that even a green mountain cannot carry it, and even time and space cannot extinguish it.

Thank your children for the joy that they brought to you.

Thank your friends and relatives for their encouragement, comfort, and help when you were in trouble.

Thank your teachers for their hard cultivation; “you see because you stand on their shoulders”.

Thank people with high ideals for drawing their swords and rendering help to you during emergencies.

Thank your colleagues, classmates, and even strangers for their sincere praise and cooperation.

Real happiness belongs to appreciative givers of thanks.

Real light belongs to them and bright futures belong to them.

Those who are without gratitude, have no love in their hearts, never repent, are short of humanity, and only fall into the evil wallows of power, money, and fame, will never attain the chance to ascend to a higher space of LIFE.

It is by giving thanks daily that we can be bathed in the spirit of the Greatest Creator, our LIFE’s non-material structure can ceaselessly evolve into perfection, and we can finally achieve the quality of becoming Celestial beings. Comrades, learn gratitude!

Even dogs know how to wag their tails to give thanks.

Are we not as good as dogs!

[matrixmultiplication]

[What is the meaning of life? - Part 1]

First post here... Hello World!

3 AM in the morning and I am contemplating about the meaning of life. I don't even know how or where to start.

I'm 20s adult, recent math-CS grad. Currently working as SWE (Software Engineering) and I hate this job a lot. Oh yeah... Let's start with my journey so far (tbh I don't even know if I can call it a journey or not because my life is very average)

When I was in college, I enjoyed learning a lot of things. Of course, this is why I majored in math (pure math to be specific). Not because it gives me money or anything, but because I enjoyed learning how things work and why it exists the way it is (kinda sound like philosophy majors lmao).

You know those "useless" formulas we learned in high school? -- for example, trigonometric formula? matrix determinant (in linear algebra) why the heck do we need it? I started learning the reason why these kinds of things existed and needed when I was in college.

Not gonna lie, doing these useless things gives me a sense of joy. It's like I discovered the meaning of everything. Well, some of you might hate math, so think about this... You watched really long movies and things started to come together in the end. The plot twist, some actions/choices that a character made that doesn't make any sense until now. It's like a big revelation right? That is the same feeling I have when I play around with math.

Well, what about CS (Computer Science)? Well, to be honest I started pretty late compared to other students. Most kids started learning some form of CS concept at a very young age (like using Scratch or something-- I think I got the name right)

While, I started learning python in the first year of college because it's a mandatory class in my university. To me, this field is like playing games, and solving a puzzle using logic. I had a lot of fun in class so I decided to stick with CS too (along with math).

Fast forward to the last semester, I found my true love-- Computer Graphic. A field that was made for me. A perfect blend between math and computer science.

What is computer graphic? Well, first it is NOT the same as graphic design (I got that question a lot haha). Have you ever played games and curious why we have a really nice graphic? Or have you seen those RTX on RTX off meme? (I gotchu gamers ;p) Those are computer graphic! Basically, it translates the 0,1s to the pixel we see on the screen with the help of GPU!

Going back to my story, I love this class so much, I enjoyed every moment of it. Never skip the class. In fact, if I can have a job that is related to computer graphic, my life would be fulfilled.

So why not get this job instead of SWE? I would love to but I can't. In short, it's a very niche field and there is no market for that (+ I'm just a beginner and still learning. Most places are looking for senior level or something like that).

This is why I ended up with SWE, which I hate... The job is very repetitive. To me, it feels like doing an excel calculation, which is pretty boring. Sure, it's a high paying job but I don't really care about money that much. My goal is not that I want to be rich, but to have enough money to live comfortably.

Everyday is the same... We have business goals to fulfill and we do it. I have no interest in making all the rich guys richer. I don't care about investing in the stock markets like some people around my age do. I hate corporate life so much. Every day is the same. Going to work 9-5, coming back home feeling drained. I lose motivation to do things I was once enjoyed. Playing games doesn't make me happy like it used to be.

This made me start questioning myself more and more. Whether I am wasting my time or not.

*Sigh* it's almost 4 am now... I'm gonna log off and write more tomorrow.

[almaqead]

"Thamud." From Surah Seven, Al Araf, "The Heights."

Thamud, which means "to covet" is a mythical place destroyed by Allah because they rejected the Prophet Salih, which means "forgiveness."

This is not to say that an ample supply of forgiveness will alleviate all the wants and desires in a man's heart. It means if we are able to bless God and the earth with thanks for what we do have, an ample supply of food, water, space, and money to care for the needs of the entire planet if we are merciful, then that is what we should do:

7: 70-73:

They said, “Have you come to us so that we would worship Allah alone and abandon what our forefathers used to worship? Then bring us what you threaten us with, if what you say is true!”

He said, “You will certainly be subjected to your Lord’s torment and wrath. Do you dispute with me regarding the so-called gods which you and your forefathers have made up—a practice Allah has never authorized? Then wait! I too am waiting with you.”

So We saved him and those with him by Our mercy and uprooted those who denied Our signs. They were not believers.

And to the people of Thamûd We sent their brother Ṣâliḥ. He said, “O my people! Worship Allah—you have no other god except Him. A clear proof has come to you from your Lord: this is Allah’s she-camel as a sign to you. So leave her to graze ˹freely˺ on Allah’s land and do not harm her, or else you will be overcome by a painful punishment.

Commentary:

Graze freely on the land take no more than it or you can endure. The Values in Gematria are:

v. 70: They said, “Have you come to us?" The Value in Gematria is 16434, י״וד‎ג‎ד‎, the 14th and the 16th, arəba'ah asar and shishah asar, "to bind to that which is pleasing, bind to that which is pure."

The verb ערב ('arab III) is generally translated with to be pleasing, but since we may expect it to also reflect the dominant criss-cross motion of the form ערב ('rb), a better translation would be to be satisfying or even rewarding. It's used to describe the effects of sleep (Jeremiah 31:26), an offering (Malachi 3:4), or meditation (Psalm 104:34).

This root's sole derivative is the adjective ערב ('areb), meaning pleasing (satisfying, rewarding; Proverbs 20:17, Song of Solomon 2:14).

The relatively rare verb שוש (sus) or שיש (sis) means to exult or rejoice, and its nouns ששון (sason) and משוש (masos) mean exultation, joy or gladness.

Despite their similarity to the previous, these words seem to have little to do with the number six or being white, which is possibly why these words were pointed differently in the Middle Ages (the previous words have sh-sounds while these words have s-sounds).

v. 71: You will certainly be bound. the Value in Gematria is 14114, ד‎אדאא‎ ‎, dadaa, "understanding of our opinions on knowledge."

v. 72: So We saved those with him and uprooted those who denied. The Value in Gematria is 9551, אטהה,‎ ‎ ‎"I will wait."

v. 73: This is Allah's she-camel. The Value in Gematria is 9927, טטבז‎ , tatbaz, "Shame on you."

We cannot make God wait for our final decision to put an end to the tyrannies, homelessness, wars, violence, and depravities happening on this world. To avoid doing something about it is to worship another God one that we think will allow us to do these things and will still show us mercy and no such being exists.

[the-diary-of-red-beryl]

ramblings in my delirium

tw: suicide, mental health. this one’s more of a ramble, and not a whole lot of conclusiveness. i've currently also a cold, which makes my cognitive processing struggles a bit more difficult. still, i think i’ve discovered some new things about myself lately so here it is: 

if there was a phrase that i felt best described my life so far, I'd say that it's akin to being in a city of eternal night.

it dawned on me recently that I'd never felt happy or enjoyed doing anything once in my life. I've always felt bored, and especially at night, I'd feel existential dread. this has been the case for as long as i can remember. i can feel distracted or engaged from doing some things, but the moment it's done I feel no added warmth. for exercise, or learning a skill, or doing adult things like paying bills or finishing saving up for a big purchase, i feel the satisfaction of making progress or achieving a goal, but i ultimately don't derive joy from it. it's something that needs to be done, and it's good if it's done well. what this means is that it's something I'd do if I'm alive and forced to keep living, but it wouldn't be something I look forward to experiencing, I couldn't care less about any of it, especially if I contemplated whether to die tomorrow.

i was prepared for my life to end when i was seventeen. I couldn't see an end to the troubles that i was facing, or hope for a future where i might feel positively. it surprises me that five years have passed by since these moments, because these years feel f*cking long. i take some level of comfort in the fact that the world doesn't just crumble into non-existence at the whim of my mood, each day passes whether I will for it to or not. it feels like a sick joke to me really, that my struggles are a blip in the sea of primordial soup, in which the universe only cares for whether I choose to be alive the next day, and there's absolutely no guarantee that if I choose to continue that eventually I will see better and more agreeable days. I don't necessarily need to be here either, I'm not important. although i guess I'm technically held here against my will simply because the human body is insanely good at not wanting to actually die, even when it gets around to it. one of the richest emotions I've ever felt was insane fear staring at the noose i had set up in front of me back then. i already have an overactive emotional gut, but i quite literally recoiled in a stomach ache and was figuratively sh*tting myself and uncontrollably shaking. it does remind me that i wanted to use dying as a means to escape the pain and hopelessness that i was (and still) am going through, even at the cost of the potential to see life turn out for the better. that pure fear is probably the biggest reason why I'm still alive, and why dying is not something i consider anymore whenever i feel like I'm stuck again and ready to give up.

i do have days where I feel content, though it's more so a feeling that arises out of having my primary needs met like having food on my plate, a roof over my head and money coming in that I've earned for myself. it's not enough to make me look forward or want to wake up for another day, but these are the things that must happen should i keep living, is what i feel. i imagine when people say they feel content, it's that it's these things, but also that they have things they enjoy and can look forward to in the near future, something that keeps them going. i just feel numb. i can recognise moments when people would be happy, and i can feel happiness vicariously through others, i can also mirror happy facial expressions. but I don't physically feel any of it for myself. the warmth doesn't linger in my body, and i dare say it was never there in the first place. i smile out of social obligation to others, whether to build amicable acquaintanceships, or to show appreciation for a thoughtful gesture (an appreciation of a more transactional nature, objectively understanding that something is good for me without the added emotion of feeling "touched").

many people have close friends that they only see twice a year or so, but with whom when they catch up, it's like they've never left. a question that comes to mind for me when thinking about this, is what you're supposed to do for the six months between each visit. I think I'd really struggle getting by if I only had friends that I saw twice a year, given how much of a struggle it already is for me to just survive each day. i think that when people say this, it's because they already have other things in the picture that make their lives worth living, and these friends are an added bonus, which, I do think is the way it should be. i also think that what elevates these in-between periods is the feeling of family, a home with the warmth of people that care for you (and you them) that you interact with more frequently if not daily, and with whom you feel safe and secure around, and who help you recharge your energy as you go through your day-to-day life, although i do wonder whether you need to be close with these people. that said, i do think that what deepens a connection isn't necessarily how much time you spend with them, if you already have the right chemistry then twice a year is enough to maintain that, and i guess when or if your everyday life overlaps then you'd take up that opportunity together as well? i think proximity is a big factor in this case, whether that's living closeby or having similar schedules.

so suppose there’s an ideal friend out there for me, for my current state of being, assuming that i don’t feel happiness for the foreseeable future. it’d have to be someone that isn’t off put or stressed by me not feeling happy when we hang out or that i don’t enjoy doing things, who is able to find comfort in me just being there and what i bring to the table. i can provide presence, responsiveness, a piece of mind, huge interest in human psychology and emotional connections. i can be someone you share a meal with, and if you just need me there, i can share your space. i’ve almost described having a pet. it is something i’ve been considering, given it might provide me with the much needed oxytocin day-to-day, however i’m worried that i be able to consistently look after it, or worse yet not be able to form a bond (based on my history with people). but also, i think i see the difference here is that a pet doesn’t choose to be with you, but a friend does. to have someone out there get to know you, and decide that you’re the one they want in their life (because it’s you and not anyone else), that’s something i’m looking for. of course, the other alternative is i meet someone who manages to muster all these positive emotions in me for the first time ever, and they happen to appreciate that and want to be close, which may or may not happen. but i do think that either way, i don’t believe that i need to be without flaws to have friends (and my flaws aren’t particularly bad), it just depends on whether someone takes an interest in me and that it’s mutual. 

well, the kind of people i choose to associate with is fairly specific. foremost, i can’t stand people who intentionally choose to harm others, whether physically or emotionally, or resort to displays of anger, intimidation and control to get the things that they want. i also can’t stand people who display indifference or bystander behaviour when it doesn’t take much effort to do something good in the situation. then, i prefer people who are reliable and competent, who can get things done (this one’s partly due to me having trauma from growing up with unreliable parents, but also is a core value of mine), and can communicate well and navigate difficult topics, whether they’ve experienced it or not, and have the ability to empathise. i’m fine with the friendship being bumpy, and over time you’re meant to decide whether the friendship is well-suited and worthwhile anyway. but from there, i think what’s left is chemistry and things i haven’t figured out i needed, and chance. 

I've never experienced or been able to develop a deep relationship with someone else in which I could feel comfortable being myself in, and safely rely on. I can't say I've ever truly had fun being with someone, felt warm after getting to know them and really feel that from what they bring into my life (objectively, saying i had fun with someone means that i felt that our conversation flowed naturally and that we had similar values, and i would like to do this again another time to develop our friendship further). that said, i think i’ve gotten better at building and maintaining acquaintances or not-so-close friends, and seeming more personable. 

the question that is begged here is that, how does someone form a friendship with others if not on a basis of sharing joy? i think typically this would be the case, that people just naturally gravitate towards those that they enjoy being with, share common interests, and eventually build trust with and feel safe around. but for me, who doesn't enjoy doing anything and never actually feels ok, who can only mirror positive emotions in others at the cost of not being true to myself, it's a bit of a trick question. not to mention that i think and communicate in a way that is not neurotypical, and my obliviousness to some social etiquette makes some people rule me out as someone to consider getting closer to. the expectations to conform to said social interaction rules is a whole different story, given that it drains me to mask like that and feels wholly unnatural and unsustainable, and the nature of which doesn't provide me with any emotional markers to follow suit. a quick summary, as a teenager i heavily, very heavily displayed symptoms of borderline personality disorder, and i believed that my difficulty in building relationships with others was only because I didn't have the opportunity to do so and learn from experience of getting socialised. but now, having been able to meet and befriend many people, and see the friendships come and go, i realise that i struggled to learn the 'right' way to act anyway, unless someone explained to me subsequently what i did or didn't do, and why and how it affects others, because i really, absolutely, do not feel any emotions relating to when these things are done to me. i suppose maybe it's a bit like teaching a colourblind person to see colours like someone who isn't colourblind might see. but what i mean is that, i think people follow these actions and phrases to show intent, like expressing to the other person that their personal space is respected, or that they're welcome in the home, but to me, I don't feel any different if it's done another way as long as it clearly shows their intent (which i say i can read intent well at least). I'd actually add further that i think the intent in mind for these practices isn't necessarily the one they truly feel deep down, it's more so a desired message that they wish to send across, regardless of how they actually feel, something more diplomatic? I'm just theorising here, but it might be a mechanism that people use to establish the safety of space between others, close friends or coworkers or whatnot, and playing the game shows to others that you're on the same page on what the rules are, and the objective is to preserve both yourself and others. in the same vein, it's why i think I'm decent at tackling difficult topics like my experiences and feelings, or breaking down industry jargon and ideas into something digestible for any audience, but absolutely struggle with persuading people and influencing how they feel subtly through words and visuals or build morale and rapport, I'm not utilising that "space". i can feel emotions through others, and mirror what they express, and can predict their behaviour based on past experiences, but I can't accurately fathom what they're thinking or influence it well even through clear communication. i do recognise this as a skill that i want to learn because of its usefulness, although I would not use this if i can help it. 

a consolation prize is that i can at least feel comfort when I'm able to put my jumbled thoughts into words, although knowing whether I've made progress in choosing a suitable direction or solution out of it is a different story (i blame depression brain fog). one thing I've learnt in my years of navigating this thick brush of depression is that there's a lot of false alarms for when things might seem to make a turn for the better. after socialising with a group of new people, the mix of feeling distracted, engaged, and hopeful, makes me think that maybe I'm finally happy, but the distinguishing factor is that that "feeling" is so terribly impermanent, almost as though it's just something i conjured up for myself after desperately looking for its true form for so long. i think I'm just good at identifying moments where i should be happy (but I'm not), not that not feeling happy in those moments necessarily means that there's something wrong with me. sometimes it comes out later that my intuition was right that i felt that something was off earlier, for example i felt that i didn't click with the people i just met. that said, i too often do scratch my head when clearly nothing's wrong, but i still feel terribly numb. whether that's travelling in a new country, eating very good food, going to concerts, going for a walk, or meeting old friends. i wonder whether it's because I don't know what actually makes me happy, because it exists and I've yet to find it, if I just can't feel it at all, or i do feel it, but not in a large enough magnitude because my other emotions are greater in scale?

objectively, I don't believe that there needs to be a reason why certain people have different things that make them happy. the reason's trivial, it's that they feel happy first, and then later realise why that's the case. although for the more unfortunate, it would help to understand the reason first and subsequently try out things. for me though, both are hard because i don’t have any indications in the first place to help figure out where to go from there. the more helpful thing for me to consider is rather purpose. the dangerous moments are when i wonder to myself why i’m alive, whether there’s a point to any of this. the other day i settled on the idea that maybe someone out there needs to meet me, and specifically me. maybe meeting me will brighten up their life (and them mine), however far into my life this might be. i think it works, because it takes the focus away from what i want (because it’s as easy for me to stop wanting it and to prefer to disappear), and onto something more out of my control that i still kind of care about. but i still wonder what i need to do to brighten up the rest of my day-to-day life to make it more worth living and less painful. workplace adjustments, homelife adjustments, looking after myself physically and understanding more of myself, professional help (this one’s always hard and a work in progress given the financial costs, suitability and time availability of health practitioners and counsellors, etc.), but it still feels like i’m missing quite a bit. my current guess is that maybe i can start taking note of my experiences so that i can recount it back to that person later in my life? somehow it’s a lot easier for me to do things when it’s for someone else’s sake (though not just anyone’s). 

[lowtaxsa]

Review: Mr. Beast (20XX)

Oh, gather 'round, dear internet denizens, for today I am going to regale you with a tale of a true titan among men, a veritable God among the mortals of the YouTube realm: Mr. Beast. Yes, that's right – the one and only philanthropist extraordinaire, the king of stunts and challenges, the embodiment of all that is good and right in this digital age of ours. I mean, who else has the uncanny ability to make millions of people watch in awe as he gives away absurd amounts of money and pulls off mind-boggling feats that leave us all breathlessly questioning, "How is this even possible?" Well, aside from every other clickbait YouTuber, that is.

Now, I know what you're thinking: "Lowtax, you handsome devil, how can you possibly capture the essence of Mr. Beast's unfathomable greatness in a mere 2000 words?" Well, dear reader, I may be dead, but my sarcasm, bitterness, and wit are very much alive, so buckle up and prepare for a journey into the ironic, sardonic, and scathing celebration of Mr. Beast's unparalleled YouTube success.

First and foremost, let's talk about the recent video where Mr. Beast bought an entire island. That's right, an actual island – not just a metaphorical one or a tiny piece of land in the middle of a lake. No, Mr. Beast went full-on "Survivor" and purchased an island. If that doesn't scream "I'm a benevolent ruler of the YouTube domain," I don't know what does. And, of course, what better way to celebrate this monumental acquisition than by giving it away to one lucky contestant in a grueling, high-stakes competition? It's not like anybody else has ever done that before, right? I mean, it's not like reality TV has existed for decades or anything. But hey, at least he's doing it on YouTube, so it's obviously better.

And let's not forget the time he generously decided to open a free car dealership, just because he could. I mean, who needs those pesky profits anyway? Not Mr. Beast, that's for sure! He's not in it for the money – no, no, he's all about the pure, unadulterated joy of giving. It brings a tear to my eye, truly. Or perhaps that's just the acrid stench of capitalism wafting through the air.

Now, I know I could spend hours (or pages) gushing over Mr. Beast's awe-inspiring acts of generosity, but let's not forget his thrilling challenges and stunts. I mean, who among us hasn't spent an entire afternoon glued to our screens, watching Mr. Beast and his gang of merry misfits embark on a 24-hour journey inside a giant block of ice or attempt to spend a night in a haunted house? It's the kind of edge-of-your-seat entertainment that can only be found on YouTube, and Mr. Beast is the undisputed master of the craft. Because, let's face it, risking your health and safety for the sake of views is the epitome of intelligent decision-making.

Oh, but wait! There's more! Mr. Beast doesn't just limit his genius to philanthropy and pulse-pounding challenges – he's also a trailblazer in the world of fast food. That's right, ladies and gentlemen, I present to you: Mr. Beast Burger. This revolutionary dining experience combines the convenience of delivery with the mouthwatering deliciousness of a burger that's been crafted by the very hands of a YouTube legend (or, you know, a team of chefs who work for him, but let's not get bogged down in the details). It's the perfect meal for those who wish to bask in the glow of Mr. Beast's greatness while also satisfying their hunger for something more – and I mean that quite literally. Because who doesn't want a side of self-congratulation with their burger and fries?

Now, dear reader, you might be wondering how Mr. Beast manages to fund these extravagant giveaways and stunts. Well, let me let you in on a little secret: it's all thanks to the magic of YouTube ad revenue. That's right, every time you watch one of his videos, you're helping to line his pockets with cold, hard cash. And let's not forget the ever-present, ever-annoying sponsorships – because nothing screams authenticity like shilling for some random app or product in the middle of a video.

But fear not, for our intrepid hero Mr. Beast is not content to hoard all of his wealth like some digital Scrooge McDuck. No, he generously gives a fraction of it away in his videos, creating the illusion of selflessness while raking in even more views and ad revenue. It's a beautiful, never-ending cycle of capitalism at its finest – and we just can't get enough.

So let's do some amateur journalistic calculations, shall we? With an estimated average of 10 million views per video, and a conservative estimate of $2 per thousand views in ad revenue, that's a whopping $20,000 per video. And with multiple videos per month, well, you do the math. It's an obscene amount of money, all thanks to the eager masses clamoring for a piece of the Mr. Beast pie.

Now, I could continue to wax poetic about the many virtues of Mr. Beast – his undeniable charisma, his unrelenting dedication to the art of content creation, his willingness to put it all on the line in the name of internet fame – but I fear that I might actually choke on my own sarcasm. So instead, let's take a moment to ponder the implications of this grand capitalist experiment we call YouTube.

You see, Mr. Beast is not an anomaly. He is merely the most visible and successful manifestation of a system that rewards extravagance, attention-seeking, and the commodification of human experience. We, the viewers, are complicit in this spectacle, offering up our precious time and attention in exchange for a fleeting sense of connection and a glimpse into a world where money, fame, and power are the ultimate goals.

But as we watch Mr. Beast and his contemporaries pull off increasingly outrageous stunts and squander untold fortunes in the pursuit of internet glory, we must ask ourselves: what are we really gaining from all of this? Are we enriched, enlightened, or uplifted by these displays of conspicuous consumption and reckless abandon? Or are we merely pawns in a game we cannot hope to understand, our desires and dreams commodified and sold back to us in the form of shallow, fleeting entertainment?

So, cheers to Mr. Beast, the epitome of YouTube success, the capitalist machine made flesh, the ironic, sarcastic embodiment of all that is wrong (and right) with our digital age. May his reign be long, his stunts be outrageous, and his ad revenue flow like a river of gold. For as long as we continue to watch, like, and subscribe, the show must go on – and who are we to stand in the way of progress?

[mllemaenad]

Hm. You know, I don't think I agree. I think the Emperor is lying, because I don't think it cares enough about identity to really claim one – unless it happens to be expedient to do so in the moment.

I'm not really disputing your theory on how things could be. I've played through to the end, now, and given how things play out if your illithid ally is anyone other than the Emperor, I think it's pretty indisputable that a newborn illithid can potentially be so deeply influenced by its host that it's functionally the same person.

Withers really doubles down on the "illithids have no souls" point – it comes up again in the post-credits scene – so I think you could make an argument that what you actually have is a copy of the deceased person, and if you were inclined to do so you could make theological arguments about that. But in the purely practical, can-I-tell-the-difference-when-I'm-talking-to-them sense? Yeah, same person.

I just don't believe it about the Emperor.

For a start, I don't actually see a lot of connection between Balduran and the Emperor, in terms of personality. I admit it's slightly murky, because they don't spend a lot of time on Balduran the man, but what there is doesn't fit.

First, Balduran was a wanderer. He seems to fill a sort of Odysseus/Aeneas/Sinbad niche in the world's storytelling. There's a reference in Balduran's final letter to Ansur's delight in experiencing the joy of adventure to Balduran's eyes. It's a really core element of who he was.

The Emperor is a Machiavellian power broker. It really only references wanderlust when it needs to spin the protagonist a pretty story to garner sympathy – it's dragged from its lair, and its very comfortable setup in Baldur's Gate. There's no sense of it having any interest in travel or adventure for its own sake. Its interest is in pure power: money and influence in Baldur's Gate, the power of the elder brain, the singular power that it can take from Orpheus – the last being its ultimate goal.

Second, Balduran is defined by a passionate friendship (or romance? Details are hazy) with Ansur. That whole sequence is Ansur's personal tragedy, as he desperately tries to save a man who no longer exists – until the monster kills him. Balduran seems to have been a man of great feeling.

The Emperor is not. It pretends to have feelings, but those are all revealed to be lies. Its relationship with Stelmane was pure fiction, and pretending to grieve for her when it first destroyed her mind is actually pretty grotesque. When you encounter Ansur's ghost, the Emperor does a certain amount of "Oh my dear Ansur", but the narrator describes it as detached and curious. It really does not care about Ansur at all. And, not least, the entire plot of Baldur's Gate 3 features its ongoing attempts to use sympathy and affection to manipulate the player character into doing what it wants. But I haven't forgotten how insistent it was that we kill Minsc because he wasn't going to be useful.

Nothing about the Emperor makes me go - "Yes! This is definitely the same guy!"

Beyond that ... it is the nature of the Emperor that its identity shifts at every turn. In its first appearance, it is a character that you design: race, gender, eye colour, hair highlights – the lot. They could, for example, have made the Guardian look like Balduran. They have a character model for him; you see it in the flashback scenes. If they had done that, it could give you a sense that this was, in some sense, how the Emperor still perceived itself. It would have accomplished its goal of looking non-threatening just as well, and it would have reinforced a reveal that this really was Balduran. But they didn't do that, because this isn't about the Emperor showing you some secret part of its real self: it's about it choosing to appear as a character you will like. You are projecting that identity onto it.

When it is forced to reveal some of its history, the story is of a nameless and hapless adventurer who fell into the hands of the mind flayers. Its story mirrors your story: at this point you have a few achievements under your belt, but you are hardly legendary, and you too have fallen to the mind flayers. It is, again, trying to get you to project a sympathetic identity onto it.

And, well, it is Ansur who names it as Balduran. Ansur looks on the illithid and projects all his grief and rage onto the slimy remnants of his dead friend. But the Emperor is just kind of ... there. It doesn't really reject any identity that's been imposed on it, but it doesn't embrace it either.

In the end, if you refuse to let the Emperor consume Orpheus it just ... runs off to serve the Netherbrain. Which is an utterly hilarious about face, but also makes sense: it only cares about power, and if it can't have Orpheus's it might as well go leech some off the Netherbrain.

I don't think this means that all illithids are like that: even setting aside the endgame business, Omeluum is pretty clear proof that they are not.

What I think is that the Emperor is actually defined by its refusal to be influenced by Balduran's memories.

The corruption of power is a pretty clear theme in the game.

All three of the Chosen villains have tragic backstories, and up to a point you can sympathise with the paths they have chosen. But by the time you get there they have committed so many atrocities in the pursuit of power that there's very little left of the people you might once have pitied. More than that: they have become the avatars of three ancient adventurers who made the ultimate idiotic power grab.

Astarion can become an empty monster with only a thin facade of his original personality if you let him ascend – it's really hard to miss the point with that one. And while it never really gets that far, it's strongly implied that this would be Gale's fate if he actually achieved godhood: the game makes it really, really clear that this is not the first goddess of magic (as I understand it, the lore indicates there have actually been quite a lot of them, which hammers home the point more, but you don't need to know that to get it), and that in becoming a god you will lose most of what makes you you.

The thing about the Emperor is that it is so sure it is better. Better than people. Better than Balduran was, specifically. It is stronger and more powerful. If you refuse its instructions to consume tadpoles it is baffled and frustrated – why would anyone reject more power? More power is always better!

I note that Balduran's letter seems to indicate he was on board with this – but, well: we know that illithids manipulate the minds of their thralls to make them compliant and, well, a tadpole was eating his brain. I don't know if Balduran was a good person or a bad one, but I'm inclined to put that specific bit of nonsense down to the influence of the tadpole (that is, the infant Emperor).

This particular illithid has nothing to it but the pursuit of power. It doesn't really have an identity beyond that. It is ravenous for power and every word, every act, is part of a calculated plan to gain more of it. It uses Balduran's memories as useful data when it needs to interact with people in pursuit of its goals, no doubt about that. But it isn't shaped by the things Balduran cared about at all. It only pursues its own goals.

Balduran's tragedy is that he was consumed utterly. There's nothing left of him that matters.

So ... the stuff with the Emperor. I am somewhat twitchy about designating a group of people as always evil, especially since the game has noted that several races "used to be" considered evil, but now are not. But I can see illithids always being ... antagonistic, as a group, at best. Because they eat people. And unless they can stop eating people, having an illithid friend is always going to be problematic, even if they have no actual plans for world domination.

There's Omeluum, in the underdark, and while I would not say I've interacted with it enough to confirm it is what it says it is, there - at least at face value - is a "good" mind flayer. It's still very much eating people, though. Researching ways to stop doing that, and good for it, but still eating people. Eating "bad" people, sure, but defining "bad" and when being eaten alive would be a reasonable punishment for that is a whole other damn issue.

But the story the Emperor told me isn't ... quite adding up for me. Or else the lore isn't adding up.

From the start of the game, I assumed illithid infection was a matter of incubation. That is, the tadpole in your brain was a person unto itself, and it was going to both feed on you and use your body as a kind of trellis to grow to maturity. In True Souls, the growth was arrested, so no mind flayer was actually erupting out of a body, and the tadpole was consuming little if any brain matter. In the case of your party, even its influence was limited by the presence of the artifact, which turned out to hold an imprisoned githyanki with super powers.

That matched nicely with the things Lae'zel said about infections, about them consuming everything you were, and with the symptoms of infection as described: fever, memory loss, delirium. It sounded as though a person was being eaten alive.

But then the Emperor turns up and claims to be an adventurer who was transformed. It claims to be the same person it was it was before the infection. If true, that would mean that illithids were only "evil" because they themselves were mind controlled. Without that, they'd just be people with unfortunate dietary needs. And, well, we're still hanging out with Astarion for some reason, so this party does not have reasonable grounds to complain about that.

And it could be true. Sure. What do I know about illithids? Lae'zel's information could be wrong. We do know at least some of what she knows is more githyanki propaganda than truth.

Except.

Well, for a starters Withers makes a whole speech about mind flayers not having souls. Now - I don't even believe in souls, so that's not something I'd even consider without being prompted by the narrative. In any fantasy setting where ghosts and souls are assumed to exist, I tend to equate soul with person. If someone is talking to me, they've got a soul. Illithids possibly being terrible people is irrelevant to that question.

Under other circumstances, I'd dismiss this as simple prejudice. But one, this does seem to be Withers' area of expertise and two, it's presented as a plot point: the gods should be attempting to gather souls, but they are not, they are gathering soulless mind flayers who ought to be useless to them. It's weird enough to be worthy of comment.

If the Emperor were a human or elf or whatever, and was transformed into a mind flayer, then it ought to have a soul. Because if there's continuity of personhood, it wouldn't make sense for it to not have a soul.

And then there's the windmill horror. I went the wrong way when doing a quest hunting for lost letters, because I missed that the guy said west and assumed the trail of blood I found was related to the dead pigeons. I followed it to a windmill, picked the lock and went snooping. Inside was a newborn mind flayer - and I could ask it if it had been the one screaming. Its response? No, those were the dying screams of its vessel. It actually delighted in the anguish and terror of the man it emerged from. This wasn't a distressed person who had just undergone an unexpected species change. This was a wholly new person, with little sympathy for its vessel.

So ... barring the arrival of any new evidence that makes the Emperor somehow exempt from this, it does not seem as though it could be who it says it is. I mean - it's entirely possible it incubated in an adventurer. That's as likely as anything else. But every piece of information I can find apart from its story indicates that that adventurer died screaming, and a long time ago.

Which in turn means that this story seems like just as much a masquerade as the business of dressing up as something from the character creator.

"Hey, one of your allies is a friendly illithid!" would not necessarily make me suspicious. I mean - we've got a mummy that raises our souls for pocket change, a priestess who came back from the dead, and very frank demi-goddess, so sure, why not?

But these repeated attempts to convince me that it is in some sense not really an illithid? When every indication is that it is? That I do not trust at all.