#the one i watched yesterday gave me about 20 heart attacks because of how low some of my faves were | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gustafsnightangel · 4 years ago

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Shattered Lives Ch 20 Pt 2

“Shhh Lily bear.” He cooed as he pulled her from the crib. “Let Mum Mum sleep some more.” Gustaf figured if he let her sleep late like yesterday she’d get a full eight hours before having to get up. Not only that his work consisted of reading scripts and doing interviews. Not exactly mentally taxing so he could nap if he needed to, he’d take the weight off her while it lasted. He sat Lily in her chair as Brendan came out of the bathroom and went to get the twins out of bed. He’d thought about doing that but this was their routine. He had to adjust to them not the other way around.

He got the kids settled at the table for breakfast and sipped his tea. They talked about what plans they had for their day, the soccer match after school, the one he wouldn’t be missing, and their weekend.

“Can you watch Lily, Brendan, I need to get Ama up for work.” He asked as he finished making their lunches.

“Sure.” The teenager said as he shoved the lunch Gustaf handed him in his bag. “Come here little monster.” He said blowing a raspberry on Lily’s neck and making her giggle.

She was a sight Gustaf thought as he set eyes on her, laying on her stomach, arms and legs sprawled at different angles. Smiling he crawled onto the bed and started kissing her shoulders, then neck, and finally those lips as she rolled over and looked at him.

“I let you sleep in again.” He grinned. “Time to get up.”

“Thanks.” Her voice was groggy and she looked as if she wasn’t all the way back from Neverland yet.

“Hop in a shower love, wake up, come have tea and breakfast.”

“Ok.” She yawned and stretched catching him around the neck before he could sit up. Pulling him to her she kissed him, that erotic taste of her making his head swim.

“You can’t kiss me like that when I can’t fuck you like I want to before you go to work.” He scoffed and her chuckle was wicked.

“Get up.” He laughed and left her to shower.

She never failed to take his breath away. Standing in the kitchen a little while later in a charcoal grey suit and peacock blue blouse, the woman was drop dead gorgeous. Lily snuggled into his chest as he slipped a hand over her hip and kissed her temple, lingering.

“You’re very lucky the kids are here love or you’d be extremely late for court.” His tone low, he knew what that tone did to her and would bet the house that she was wet and wanting.

“You can peel me out of it tonight.” She purred and took Lily from him. “But right now, we have to get going.” Her kiss was chaste and his hand, lightening quick, held her by the back of her neck as he kissed her slowly and deepened it.

“Bye love.” He grinned and kissed her deeply so it made her brain all fuzzy. “Have a good day.” He whispered.

“You too.” Her kiss was equally sinful.

“Have a good day boys.” He said finally finding his voice. She stole his breath like she’d stolen his soul.

There were choruses of you too and they were gone. The whirlwind of weekday mornings were enough to make his head spin. He tidied up and went home to start cleaning out the office he was planning for Sildie.

He hadn’t been in this room for a while. It had been a dumping ground for boxes and discarded items when he’d first moved in. Some of it still remained because he’d become so busy with work after Ana left he’d never finished cleaning it out. Well not anymore he thought. Time to clean this shit up and purge the items you clearly don’t need.

He found the more he let go of his shit with Ana the more he let go of other crap in his life. He waded through boxes of old books, clothes and general junk. When he stopped for a break he called a thrift store and scheduled them to pick it all up tomorrow, at least someone else might find his junk useful.

He was rummaging through a box when his hand stopped suddenly and his breath caught before whooshing out like someone had gut punched him.

“Fuck!” He choked and let the tears fall, he couldn’t have held them in even if he’d tried. “Fuck!” He sat heavily on the floor as his legs gave out from under him no longer able to keep him upright. Pulling himself to sit cross legged he held the tiny knitted bootie in his fingers, the super soft yarn whispering to him of a pain he’d never heal from.

A bootie from a child that never existed. Another spiteful game, another ploy by Ana at completely destroying him. It had almost worked if it hadn’t been for his mother. She’d seen through Ana’s lies when he was too distraught to, blinded by grief, by hatred for the woman who he’d given every part of himself to.

He let it out, the overwhelming fury, disgust, and pain. The grief of what could have been had it not been imagined, had it not been used to twist the knife in his already shattered soul. He felt the panic attack suddenly surface. It wasn’t surprising since this discovery had come on the heels of Wednesday evening. Too much, way too much to deal with.

With the bootie still in his hand he tried to suck down oxygen as his entire being freaked out. The sensation of a heart attack, asphyxiation, and passing out quite real in his mind. The nausea and dizziness almost winning their battle.

“Breathe.” He commanded himself. “Just. Fucking. Breathe.” He choked out. His thoughts turned to Sildie, her smile, her laugh and his breathing began to calm but he was shaking violently, the adrenaline all too real. He gradually got to his feet when he thought he could stand without collapsing and finding his phone he called Sildie’s number.

He knew he’d get her voicemail but just the sound of her greeting calmed him further. He left her a brief message and hoped it wasn’t too shaky. With the sudden urge to be out of his apartment he grabbed his coat, keys, beanie, and phone and locked the door behind him.

He placed a hand on the door and breathed, that was enough to settle him so he could drive. This was the first time he couldn’t deal with being in his own apartment and he hated Ana for that. His sanctuary, the home he’d hoped to make with Sildie someday. Fuck you he screamed in his mind. Fuck. You.

He drove around for an hour or so, thoughts running through his mind like a freight train. He couldn’t deal with that, couldn’t begin to even fathom how he’d tell Sildie. Before he really knew what he was doing he’d parked at the courthouse and sat staring out over the hood of the car at a concrete wall.

His phone vibrated and Sildie’s tone filled his ears. The sigh of relief relaxed him as he answered it. Somehow he’d made it to her like his entire being just knew what he needed.

“Hi love.” He tried not to convey too much grief in his tone.

“Hey, you ok? You sounded pretty shaken up.” She was on high alert now as she heard that sorrow in his voice.

“I’m ok now, found some stuff that slammed a few memories home, you know? Too much, too soon after Wednesday.” He said and let the tears come.

She was worried, rarely did he fall apart like this, rarely did he sound so defeated, so brittle. “Where are you?” She asked gently.

He chuckled. “Actually I’d been driving around for an hour or so before I found myself parked at your courthouse.”

“You’re in the garage?” She said surprised. This was worse than she’d thought.

“Yeah.”

“Third floor, room 6. Come up and have lunch with me I’ll have them pass you through.”

“Sildie I’m ok I just...”

“It wasn’t a request Gustaf.” She said sternly and cut him off. “I need to, I need to know that you’re ok. Come up and have lunch with me.” She softened her tone burying the fear. “Please.” He could hear the worry in her voice, that concern that made it quaver.

“You sure? I don’t want to get in the way.” Which was the truth. It was bad enough she was worried about him.

“You’re not. We’ve adjourned for the day.” Please love she pleaded silently, let me take care of you.

“Ok, I’ll be up soon.” He said quietly, knowing if he didn’t get upstairs in a timely manner she’d be in the garage with a team of security and would find his sorry ass. Then she’d be pissed and worried and worried was bad enough.

She hung up the phone and explained to her first chair she’d meet him back at the office or see him Monday. Oliver was heading back anyway so they’d at least have some privacy. She had the guard on the door go down and clear Gustaf through security.

She stood carefully as the door opened, braced herself for whatever was about to come her way, hands twisting in front of her. She knew just from the way his shoulders slumped the memory had hit him harder than she’d first anticipated, harder than Wednesday even. He came to her silently, it had to be his choice to talk to her. The fact he’d called her set her slightly at ease.

His arms came around her and he just held her. Her scent, her warmth, home, comfort. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to freak you out with my message.” He mumbled.

“It’s ok.” She took his face in her hands and kissed him sweetly. “Come sit and eat.” She wouldn’t bully him to talk, but she was hoping he’d talk to her eventually after she got him settled. His emotions were all over the place and she’d have to play it carefully.

“How long is your lunch break?” He asked as he seemed to fold himself up on the chair trying to make himself disappear.

“As long as I need.” She said softly, as she passed him half of her sandwich that he’d lovingly made for her this morning.

She smiled as he started to eat even though he probably didn’t feel like it. Her turn to care for him. She got up and went to the urn to make a fresh tea for them both giving him the space, the calm to collect himself and his thoughts.

As she placed the tea on the table and sat down she noticed he was fiddling with something, those talented fingers gently caressing fabric with such care as he stared out the window. She brushed a knuckle along the back of his hand and he sucked in a breath as he came back from where ever his mind had wandered off to.

“Sorry. Lost in thought there.” He smiled and looked at the beautiful woman across from him. How could he tell her, how could he not add more pain to those loving eyes he thought? “You were reading it.” He stated as his eyes fell on his notebook.

“At lunch I read some when I get a moment.” She said softly and he nodded letting out a slow breath as if he was preparing for battle. Which in his mind it probably was, she thought.

“I was cleaning out some stuff today in the second office. It had become a dumping ground for a lot of shit over the years. Figured while I’m home and cleaning the mind of unwanted crap I may as well clean my apartment of it too.” He chuckled but there was no humor in it.

“It’s good to purge the clutter.” Her voice was gentle as she knew this was going to hurt him so much and it killed her to see that pain in his usually bright eyes.

“It is.” He paused and looked at the item in his fingers. “I was sorting through a box when I came across this.” He said and gently placed the bootie on the table and pushed it toward Sildie, his index finger resting on it like he didn’t quite have the heart or will to truly let it go.

Oh fuck she thought, fucking fuck. Her whole body suddenly jerked with the shock of the tiny bootie in front of her like someone had slapped her fair across the face. She didn’t, Ana didn’t, Sildie thought and looked at him, those eyes so full of immeasurable pain. She did. Sildie felt that lethal fury surge forward, the plummet of her gut, that fucking bitch she swore silently. Never in her life had she contemplated homicide but she was working on it. She wanted to kill the bitch and had many creative ways to do it floating in and out of her mind.

He saw the realization, watched her mind work and click it into place. “I haven’t talked about this with anyone, it’s too painful.” He choked and took a steadying breath. “But I need to tell you, to get it out because this...” he tapped the fuzzy bootie. “This has ripped those wounds wide open again and I can’t breathe, I can’t get past it.” The sobs threatened and he slammed them down. He would get this out, he owed her the truth. Her finger stroked the back of his hand until he breathed and calmed his thoughts. She stayed silent not trusting her own emotions for the moment. She was barely breathing from the lethal fury coursing through her at the woman who had fucked with him, he was devastated.

Once he was more settled he sipped his tea and continued. “At the end of our relationship, when things had started turning really sour, Ana came home one night to tell me she was pregnant. I think it was her last ditch effort in keeping me chained to her. It brought us back together for a short time, I was determined to make it work for the sake of our child even though I had my doubts it was mine. We set up a nursery, bought clothes, did all the preparation. But when it became too difficult for her to continue the charade she faked a miscarriage.” He choked on his own words as they ripped his throat to shreds on their way out.

“I was devastated, heartbroken.” His voice cracked and her hand shot across the table and gripped his to urge him to get it all out. “I only found out later that it was all bullshit. My mum had done some digging of her own. Was I that fucking stupid?” He asked her through tears as he looked at her. “Was I so fucking stupid to not see something wasn’t right? So stupid to want to make it work when she was clearly in it for what, money, the joy in my pain? Fuck I don’t know anymore.”

“No love. You’re not stupid.” She murmured, standing she moved to him. “You’re kind, and gentle, and loving, but you’re not stupid.” She wrapped her arms around him and held his head to her as he cried. You’re just a man that’s far too kind and sweet for his own good she thought.

“How was I so blind to what she was?” His voice was hoarse.

“She’s a master manipulator love. A narcissist, and they’re very good at playing those sorts of head games.” She said softly, kissing his brow.

He pulled her into his lap and just held her as she held him. Sildie was at a point she was ready to find this Ana and make her regret ever tangling with him.

“I’m sorry. Shit, I’m sorry Sildie. You don’t need this right now and we’re at your work and...” He said suddenly as if realizing they weren’t at home. She cupped a hand to his cheek and wiped the stray tear away.

“It’s ok love.” She kissed him lovingly, that sweetness that soothed. “Thank you for telling me, coming to me.”

“I’m sorry I just needed you.” He rested his head against hers. “Sorry, I’m being so fucking needy.” He huffed.

“I’m always here for you love. Even if it’s a little delayed because I’m in court. I’ll always find time for you.” Especially at the moment when you’re so lost she added silently.

“I should go and let...”

“Stay a while.” She kissed him tenderly. “Please? There’s no rush. I just have some reading to do before leaving early for the game tonight and I can do that right here. With you.”

“Fuck what time is that again. I swear my brain isn’t functioning right now.” He scrubbed a hand over his face and swiped the tears away.

“It’s at five. You can hang here if you want for a few hours and follow or go home first, it’s up to you.” She kissed him again and she felt him relax. “Drink your tea.” She smiled. “Relax your mind.”

“Thank you.” He said quietly as he kissed her temple.

“Together remember.” She looked at the bootie and her heart sank. He wanted kids, it was obvious, and she was still on the fence. That was a much bigger problem for another day.

He sipped his tea and let his mind wander. Mainly to him and Sildie having a brood of their own. He knew she didn’t want kids and that thought weighed heavily on him. For the immediate future they had four kids to raise, wasn’t that enough?

“Another tea?” She asked and stood collecting her cup. He nodded and she took his with her to refill.

Sitting across from him again she placed the teacups on the table. She picked up the bootie and held it a moment, his eyes following it as she slipped it into his notebook with all the other toxic memories. He felt the pang of loss again as she closed the cover. It was where it belonged now, he thought, in with all the other shit Ana had put him through. The child was nothing it a lie, it was never real and he had to remember that.”

“Are you ok if it stays in there?” She asked gently.

He nodded quickly. “It’s where it belongs.”

“I need to do some reading you ok to sit with me for a bit?” She asked hoping he’d stay. She was worried for him at the moment, his state of mind more fragile than she’d first thought.

“I’ll finish my tea and then go home and get some stuff done before the game. I have a load of laundry that needs to end up in the dryer.” He chuckled dryly. He was starting to come back to her she thought. Those eyes of Viking blue clearer now even if they were rimmed with red.

“Could you grab my longer coat for me? I forgot to toss it in the car this morning as someone was distracting me with kisses that were very tasty.” She smirked.

“Anything for you love.” He reached across the table and took her fingers in his and brought them to his lips. He kissed them and nipped her knuckle playfully. He needed to put it away, he couldn’t stay in that blackness for too long or it would consume him whole, again, and it was bad enough the first time around. He’d let it out, he’d told the one person that mattered, now it was time to put it away, move on from it.

She watched him bury it, putting it aside so it didn’t come between them. She read her files, her fingers intertwined with his as he sipped his tea, absently stroking them but well aware of his mental state. Watching her work he felt the calm settle over him and by the time he’d finished his tea he he would have just enough time to make it home, collect her coat and grab some snacks for the game. He squeezed her fingers and brought them to his lips, kissing them before he stood.

He didn’t have to tug her to her feet, she stood and wrapped her arms around him without hesitation. She could feel his sorrow, his pain, it ripped through him like a storm cloud tearing itself apart on a raging wind.

“Feeling better?” She asked gently.

“Much, thank you.” He kissed her, that slow burn that promised so much more.

“See you at the game?” She asked breathless.

“You bet.” He kissed her again. “Text me when you’re on your way.” He said softly and pulled his coat on. “I may need the reminder.”

“I will, drive safe love.” She kissed him slowly, that lingering kiss that spelled seduction. Watched as he walked away, those long legs eating up the floor quickly.

As soon as he got home he went straight to the office and dug around in the same box the bootie was in. There was nothing else to remind him of the phantom child. Breathing a sigh of relief he sat on the floor heavily. The sooner this crap from their relationship was out of his apartment the better.

Two more boxes to go and he would tackle those tomorrow before the guys from the second hand store arrive to pick everything up. He took the three bags of trash down, happy to finally be rid of it, grabbed snacks and Sildie’s coat and headed to the game, her text tone filling the elevator on his way down to the car. He wasn’t going to be late or miss this one for anything.

He made it to the game before Sildie, which wasn’t unusual as she had to collect Lily from daycare. He sat in their usual spot, the twins barreling over to him at full speed and tackled him in a bear hug.

“You came.” Liam grinned.

“Sure did.” He grinned and gave them quick hugs before their coach called them back over.

“Go on, I’ll be right here, all game.” He chuckled as they sprinted back to their team.

He heard the dad dad before he saw his two best girls. Turning he smiled and clapped his hands for Lily and she almost threw herself at him.

“Hello little lady.” He said kissing the toddler until she giggled. “Hello lovely lady.” He murmured in that low timbre she’d missed over these past weeks.

“Hi.” She trailed a finger down his jaw and kissed him sweetly. His eyebrow arched. It was the first time she’d kissed him here, in public.

“Where’s Brendan?” Gustaf asked when he didn’t see the teen with her.

“Last minute sleepover.” She handed over Lily to Gustaf and pulled her heavier coat on that stopped the chill dead. “He’s hitting the rink tomorrow with a hockey buddy for some skating practice.”

“It means a lot to him.” He said sitting Lily in his lap and helping her clap her hands for the boys as they took the field.

“Yes, it was Quinn’s favorite sport to watch and when he suggested it to Brendan the kid took to it like a duck to water. Now he just wants to make his dad proud.”

“It’s good for him too, team building, team work.”

“It is. Same for these two trouble makers.” She nodded and stood up as Finn had the ball. “Go go go go.” She breathed as he tore down the field.

“He got it!” Her smile was electric and he kissed her temple as she sat back down.

“He got it. One for Liam?”

“Fingers crossed.” She said grinning. He looked slightly better than a few hours ago she thought, but he was still reeling. He was here though, with her, with the kids, talking. Things were better even with the shock find today.

By the end of the game the twins had a goal a piece and were on cloud nine when they came off the field.

“Did you see it Gustaf?” Liam asked beaming. “Did you see it?”

“Sure did, and Finn’s. What do you think Ama, ice cream to celebrate?”

“I think that’s perfect.” She grinned as the twins climbed all over Gustaf with hugs and excitement. This was just what he needed to pull him back from all that grief today.

The kids piled into the car as Gustaf strapped Lily in her car seat. He shut the door once Finn was in and pressed Sildie against it kissing her deeply.

“With Brendan at a sleepover, do you think Lily can sleep in his room tonight?” He kissed her again, more seductively than the first.

“Perhaps.” She grinned, knowing his mind had gone exactly where hers had.

“Because to be honest I can’t fit on his bed comfortably while I fuck you until you scream.” He chuckled. “I have a taste for you tonight love.” He growled and she felt her wetness pool at that tone. “I’m going to make you come all night long.” He gently nipped her bottom lip, gave her a scorching gaze and stepped back.

“See you at home love.” She said breathlessly, the sudden chill from not having his body pressed against him making her shiver.

“I’ll pick up dinner.” He quipped as he walked to his car.

“Fuck me.” She breathed out as she watched him leave, the swagger making her smile. “He turns me on from frigid to fuck me daddy like no other.” She muttered and opened the car door once she’d composed herself.

The twins talked on the way home and entertained a now tired Lily. She was starting to implode by the time Sildie got through the door, and was almost screaming for Gustaf before her bath.

“He’ll be back soon Lily.” She soothed and let the water trickle over the quietly sobbing child. “He’ll be back soon with pizza and snuggles. And we’ll work on making him feel better, he’s had a rough day.”

Gustaf came home about twenty minutes later with pizza and ice cream for the boys and Thai and dessert for the adults. The faint sob of dad dad as Lily reached for him made him smile. “Come here little lady you’re beyond it.”

“She was beyond it when we got out of the car.” Sildie said handing over the cranky toddler. She cleared off her chair and dumped her bag next to his and smiled at the sight, homey, normal. She looked at the twins and then at Gustaf. Ice cream before pizza, and she let it slide. She couldn’t ruin a moment where things were settled. They’d eat the pizza, what did it matter if it was after dessert she thought?

“Thai?” She asked sitting down.

“Yeah something different.” He chuckled. Lily she noticed was tucked into him and nearly asleep.

He would make such a great father, the tiny voice in her head said cheekily. She almost choked on that thought. Did she really want kids? To add to the four they were already responsible for, that she was responsible for? That decision was still a long way off and a maybe at that, there was nothing solid about it yet. Besides, she was over forty, hadn’t that ship already sailed?

“Sorry what?” She chuckled.

“You were off somewhere else.” He smiled and brushed a finger over the back of her hand.

“Sorry, long day. My mind keeps drifting back to the case.” The case of do I want kids with you? And she needed to put that out of her mind. It would be too raw for him to discuss right now, and she didn’t even know if she wanted that, one step at a time.

“I have some guys coming over tomorrow to collect the junk I don’t want anymore and I have two more boxes to sort before one.” He repeated as she found the box of rice.

“That’s fine, we’re here this weekend, nothing planned. I’ll be reading as usual.” She snorted.

“Our normal.” He chuckled.

“Yeah. We should adjourn for discovery Monday or Tuesday. Today went well so we’re back on track after the near disaster last week.” She forked some coconut rice with beef masuman into her mouth and almost moaned. “Where did you get this from?”

“Waan Thai. They’re my favorite.” He said and shifted the deadweight of Lily in his arms.

“I can see why. So good.”

“As authentic as you can get without leaving the country.”

“She’s asleep.” She chuckled and speared a shrimp off his plate when he looked down at the sleeping child.

“Living dangerously I see.” He growled. “I happen to like coconut shrimp and you keep stealing them off my plate.” He laughed as she tried to steal another and their forks clashed as he defended his food.

“Gotta be quicker than that love.” She winked at him as she speared another and ate it.

“You’ll pay for that.” He growled and she knew he’d collect after the kids had gone to bed.

She tidied up as he put Lily down and made a pot of tea. When he didn’t come out she went to find him. Leaning on the doorframe she watched as he talked to her softly, her tiny hand gripping his finger tightly.

She knelt behind him and ran her hands over his shoulders and down his chest, kissing his temple. “Come have some tea.” She whispered. “We can move her once she’s out cold.”

She stood up and helped him to his feet. It was only then she saw the tears. She wiped them away tenderly and stood there cradling him to her. This wound was much deeper than the others.

“Sorry.” He huffed a chuckle.

“Don’t be, it’s ok.” She said softly. “Better you let it out than lock it away again.” She smiled. “At least that’s what some guy told me once.” She quipped kissing him sinfully. She’d use sex and seduction much like he had done to pull her out of the all consuming abyss.

“Some guy huh?” He huffed in mock annoyance.

“Yeah just some guy.” She kissed him again shrugging and felt the smile tug his lips. “Some guy that rocks my world just by looking at me the way he does.” Those ocean eyes met her and she smiled. “Just like that. Like I’m the only woman in the world.”

“You are for me.” He murmured and kissed her with that love he’d unbound this past week.

“Come on some guy.” She grinned. “The tea’s well brewed by now.”

They sat at the table for tea while the twins played quietly in their rooms. Liam was banned from video games for two weekends and Finn didn’t want to play alone as Brendan wasn’t home.

“I have a few interviews over your way Monday. Maybe get together for lunch?” He asked sipping his strong tea, toying with her fingers.

“I’m going to say maybe. I have to see what the day is going to throw at us.” She said and took his hand. “I want to but I have to see.”

“Fair enough.” He smiled and thought he might just sneak in and watch her from the back of the courtroom. He’d wanted to see her work from their first Friday tea date. Those were moves of a different kind he wanted to see.

As he sat he calmed, composure a hard task master after the rollercoaster of emotions today. Eventually needing to keep busy he got the twins in the bath and talked while they played, letting them splash him as few times before he retaliated and they had a small water fight. Once dry they headed back to their room to read and chill before lights out as Gustaf cleaned up the mess.

He came back into the living room to soft jazz, a fresh pot of tea, the dim lights, and Sildie in the kitchen tidying up. He smiled, she was trying to care for him as he’d cared for her only weeks ago. A sob threatened and he rammed it down. No other woman he’d dated had ever done something like this for him before, cared for him before. He had obviously been dating the wrong women he thought dryly.

He looked tired and stressed as he came into the living room, not surprising after his shock find this morning, she thought. She walked to him and caught his hand before he could sit, pulling him into her arms and swaying.

“Dance with me.” She murmured and sighed as those hands found their place on her body.

“Romancing me?” He smiled, swaying with her.

“Trying.” She chuckled and kissed him tenderly. “I’m not as good as you at it.”

“It’s working just fine love.” He breathed and nuzzled her cheek kissing her temple as they danced slowly. “You have the kindest heart.” He said so softly she almost didn’t hear it.

“So do you love. It’s just been taken advantage of for far too long.” Her words hit him hard and he had no choice but to let the tears fall, silent but not unheard. “How do I help you love? What do you need from me?” She asked just wanting to take all his pain away so he didn’t have to feel it anymore.

“This. You.” He sniffed. “Just you.” He chuckled. “And the audience we have at the door.” He murmured and she looked up to see the twins watching them.

“They’re missing their parents.” She whispered, her finger trailed his jaw and she kissed him sweetly. “Quinn and Dana used to dance in the kitchen while Dana was cooking.”

“That’s a nice memory for them.” He kissed her brow and smiled as a tiny pair of hands squeezed his thigh. He looked down to see Finn hugging him and Liam hugging Sildie.

He stopped and dropped his hand to rest on the kids head. His heart filled to bursting with the love that he felt from them. He looked at Sildie and her smile rocked his soul.

“They care about you.” She whispered and kissed him gently. “They don’t like seeing you hurting either.” Her thumb brushed the stray tear away and her kiss seemed to calm him.

He crouched down and bundled the kids to him for a hug. So much love in them and they gave it so freely. Without a word he hoisted the both up and carried them to bed to tuck in.

“Love you.” Liam said softly as Gustaf peeled his arms from around his neck.

“I love you too but time for bed ok?”

“Are you ok?” Finn asked quietly.

“I’ll be fine. Rough week, but I have you guys to come home to and get to watch you score goals, so my week got better.” He smiled.

“The weeks done though so you can have a better week starting now.” Liam said brightly.

“I like that idea.” Gustaf said and smiled at the kid.

“Can you read to us?” Finn asked quietly.

“You want me to?” He asked and they both nodded. He picked up the second book of Harry Potter and started reading.

She smiled as she heard his voice, that low smooth tone reciting words from a book they all loved. The twins had conned him into reading even though it was well past their bedtime but she let it go. These little changes were good, they were bonding. Things were starting to get back to what was their normal.

She was reading his notebook when he came out of the twins room and closed the hall door. She put it away before he turned to her, not wanting him to see her reading it. He didn’t need that blatantly shoved in his face over and over again. She had to admit though, she wanted to find this Ana and kick her ass a few thousand times. He stood before her and held out his hand. Taking it he pulled her to him and swayed.

“Now, where were we?” He murmured and kissed her cheek before pressing his to hers.

“About here.” She chuckled. “They conned you you know.” She said gently.

“I know. I don’t mind as long as you don’t.” He looked at her and worried if he’d stepped over a line.

“It’s Friday, and they would have been up playing games anyway had Brendan been home.” She kissed him. “Besides it’s important to them, and you.”

“I needed it to tell you the truth. They ground me but in a different way. Kids see things so black and white, it’s refreshing.” He kissed her brow and breathed out letting all the stress of the week go with it. Liam was right, he could start a new week right now that was much better than the last.

“They do.” She let her hands wander to eventually wrap around his neck and kissed him with that mind blanking kiss.

“Fuck that turns me on.” He growled and kissed her as she chuckled wickedly.

“I know.” She breathed and kissed him again. His hands suddenly sprang to life and gripped her tightly.

His head was spinning delightfully when she let him go, that sinful mouth delivering an equally sinful kiss.

“I’ll go setup the crib in Brendan’s room.” She whispered and kissed him again. “Because I need you.”

Her look at him from under her lashes made his cock twitch and harden. Damn she could play the game. He held her to him firmly as she went to pull away and kissed her, that devastating kiss that made her whimper for him.

“I’m going to make you scream for me.” He murmured, that silky low tone making her pussy instantly wet.

“Not if I make you scream first.” She purred and nipped his bottom lip gently as he chuckled.

He watched her walk to the hall door, hips sashaying. He groaned and the look of undiluted seduction she shot over her shoulder at him had him straining in his jeans. He followed a beat later and went to pick up the sleeping toddler.

She didn’t stir as he cradled her to him. Those tiny hands subconsciously fisting in his shirt as he soothed her back. He grabbed her bear and blanket and waited until Sildie had finished.

As Gustaf settled Lily she turned off the lights and checked the front door. She stepped into her bedroom and shut the door, clicking the lock in place. He stood at the window staring out, his shoulders relaxed. She smiled and went to stand behind him.

She lay her hands on his shoulder blades and felt him relax further. She loved the feel of his strong soft body under her hands, the ripple of muscle, lean and toned after weeks of pounding the bag. Resting her head between his blades she snaked her arms around him to press her palms to his chest.

His scent, strong and calming consumed her. Those gentle hands covered hers as she pressed herself tighter to him. It had been a rough day for him and she’d let him have his thoughts a little longer before pulling him away from it again.

She’d pulled his thoughts back from where they’d wandered off to, not really thinking of anything in particular. Her scent wove around him, calmed him. He took both her hands in his and kissed them before dropping them to turn in her arms. Without a word he kissed her, that heartbreaking tenderness that spoke of love and trust.

He didn’t want anymore words tonight, just to feel her under him, the soft sounds as he made love to her. She gave herself to him, feeling his need to pleasure, to give. His fingers dipped between silk and skin to open the buttons of her blouse and watch it fall to the floor with a whisper, her suit pants pooling at her feet. His goddess in black lace standing before him. He removed her hair clip and watched the molten copper cascade down. Running his fingers through it he kissed her, that slow, mind altering kiss that left her wrecked.

He walked her back and she sat as she felt the mattress at the back of her knees. Bending low he kissed her as those slender fingers removed his shirt, peeled the belt, black denim, and briefs from his hips and released his hardening manhood. He leaned forward, hand bracing her spine as she lay down and kissed her from lips to cleavage as he knelt before her.

He lost himself to her as he kissed every inch of that silky skin. She cried out softly as he tasted her through the black lace, her hands fisting in the sheets already. He hooked her legs over his shoulders and feasted, not waiting for her brain to process what he was doing.

As his mouth claimed her clit his fingers plunged into her deeply, her taste arousing him further. Hard gentle strokes that had her hips bucking against him as she rode them. He watched her body writhe to the tune he was pulling from it.

This was all about her, the pleasure he could give her, the love he would give her. He’d hurt her this week, the past few weeks and that didn’t sit well with him. He needed to be better.

He ravaged her until she cried out, pussy clenching his fingers. He continued to bring her undone, determined to completely and pleasurably wreck her. Kissing his way up her body as her climax ebbed he slipped inside her as he claimed her mouth with his.

She was still panting from her orgasm as his mouth devoured hers, his cock buried deep. He hadn’t let her come down from the euphoric high before building her up to a new one. She wrapped her legs around his hips as the steady slow rhythm destroyed her system.

“Gustaf.” She choked as she crested so quickly it caught her off guard. He tipped her over again without hesitation. Her hands reached to caress his chest, the feel of him only adding to her euphoria.

He nipped her jaw, her neck, as he quickened his pace, the change causing that beautiful gasp and moan to escape her mouth. With his feet on the floor and body resting on his elbows his thrusts became deep and hard, her nails slightly biting into his shoulders as he took her. He felt her body under him shake with the force of each thrust, the tremble as it succumb to him.

She was delirious, that long thick shaft pistoning into her, bottoming out at every thrust, all while his hard toned body pinned her to the sheets. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d told her he was going to make her come all night long.

He tipped her over for three more mind altering orgasms before his breathing became ragged, her pussy squeezing him deliciously tighter with each one. He lost himself to her, feasting on her slender neck, finding her pulse and grazing it with his teeth, the promise of a bite. The brush of his body against hers as he pounded into her relentlessly in the pursuit of their pleasure.

“Sildie” He whispered as her entire body went taught like an over strung bow. Her orgasm slammed into her, tearing that soft scream from her throat as he bit down on the pulse at her neck. Wave after wave of ecstasy crashed through her as his own groan of pleasure mixed with hers as he came.

She took his face in her hands and kissed him sinfully.

“You can’t kiss me like that when I just fucked you.” His throaty chuckle still wicked.

“Can’t talk.” She heaved as she struggled to breathe. “No words.”

“I did warn you.” He growled and kissed her tenderly. “And I’m not done.”

“I have kids to get up for tomorrow love.” She said softly.

“You can sleep in, I can get the kids. Besides, seeing you all lawyered up today got me hard.” He kissed her seductively. “And wanting.” He kissed her again and lingered looking down at her. “It turns me on.”

He took the kiss deeper and heard her moan.

“I love it when you kiss me like that.” She said breathlessly and felt him smile against her lips.

He crawled off her to stand and held out his hand for hers. “Stand a moment.” He said and tugged her to stand with him. “You’re still wearing entirely way too much.” He whispered and kissed her like a man possessed.

She rested her hands on his chest liking the feel of the smattering of hair that caressed her fingers as his started their destructive trail. Over and under lace he teased and aroused, those lips equally seductive on her neck and throat.

“My goddess.” He whispered and kissed her as he tenderly pulled her bra straps from her shoulders. “So beautiful.” He murmured as he released her heavy breasts for the confines of the lace.

He dipped his head to capture a nipple and roll it over his tongue. Her hands stroked up his neck and over his head to hold him to her as her head dropped back. While he feasted on her breast his hand trailed lightly to brush over the scrap of lace at her crotch, fingers diving between lace and skin to slowly slide them down her legs, he left the lace top stockings where they were, he had a thing for them on her lovely pins.

He kissed up her throat and claimed her mouth, she deepened it as his hands gripped her hips tightly. She let him up for air and as those dusty blue eyes met hers she bit her bottom lip. His chuckle was met with a sly smile and he kissed her tenderly, sucking her bottom lip free.

“One day love.” He warned. “But not today.” He spun her sharply and held her against his chest, her hands pinned to her hips with his. “Doesn’t mean you won’t be begging.” He growled. “Let me have you.” He said releasing her wrists and cupping her breasts, thumbs grazing over her erect nipples.

“Always.” She breathed as she gave herself to him, for him to take her how he pleased. She loved it when he was in full control, her own challenge at getting him to break, to lose that control while he was inside her.

“On your knees.” He whispered and nipped the shell of her ear gently. “I know you like it when I fuck you like this.” His tone that low rumble that sent a shiver rippling across her skin as his hand brushed up her throat to squeeze gently.

She knelt on the edge of the bed, his hand at her throat gently as he guided her. His lips devoured the nape of her neck and she could feel the power that radiated off him, she loved feeling it as he took control with a promise of such pleasure. With the hand on her throat his other tormented her as his fingers danced to an erotic tune over her skin.

She rested her head against his chest and cried out as his finger dipped between her slick folds and over her clit. “My goddess.” He whispered. “How beautiful you are when you come for me.” He tipped her over the edge into bliss and gently squeezed her throat, the feeling of her pulse thrummed under his fingers.

He guided her down to stretch her arms out above her head on the mattress, that supple body ready for him to claim. He teased her mercilessly, that one finger igniting a fire over her skin at every pass. He he trailed it along her inner thighs and spread her wide, gripped his cock in his hand he eased the tip into her heat, her cry one of pleasure.

He slowly tip fucked her until she was squirming, whimpering for him to plunge into her depths. He reached around and circled a slender finger pad over her clit as she tensed and felt her pussy grip and suck at him as she came. It was only then that he sheathed himself deep inside her as she cried out.

He set a rhythm that he could maintain for a longer time period, determined to bring his woman undone and see her completely wrecked before the end of the night. With his finger endlessly circling her clit and labia he plunged deep and hard. She climaxed over and over again until her body was shaking violently. It was then he took her hard.

She couldn’t think, barely able to catch her breath between her orgasm ebbing and another crashing through her. She let herself be taken, be pleasured, be claimed by him. The euphoria overwhelming and consuming her.

He pistoned his hips faster, pounded into her to sate his need to feel her, fuck her. Her pussy still delightfully stroking him with each orgasm until he was as lost as she was.

“Sildie.” His breathing ragged. “Come for me, take me with you.” He flicked her clit in a relentless pattern and felt her tense tighter than before. Her whimpers more desperate than before. “Scream for me.”

With her hands fisted in the sheets above her head she rocked back, his cock taking her deeper. With a scream of his name into the mattress her orgasm shattered her.

“Fuck Sildie!” He choked as he followed her. Those powerful thighs trembling as he took her fast and hard, his release almost making him black out.

They both stilled until the only sound was of their heavy panting trying to force oxygen into their lungs until her breathless giggle made him chuckle. He pulled out of her gently and lay on the bed bundling her to him rather awkwardly as his muscles didn’t seem to want to work anymore than hers did. He nuzzled her throat and eventually kissed those lips he adored.

“You know.” She said still breathing heavy. “We are going to kill each other if we keep this up.” Her grin was as wide as his.

“Totally worth it.” He huffed and kissed her again. “Sleep now love.”

“Already half way there.” She mumbled as it literally claimed her just as hard as Gustaf just had.

He smiled as he kissed her head and curled her into him. He would say those words to her, he would get Ana out of his life and his mind for good.

**********************************************

@hausofobsession @ill-skillsgard @grandpa-sweaters @authentic90skidd @tuckersgirl @fairlyfallacy @flowers-in-your-hayr @raewritesfiction @stinkerbelle007 @kamie-b @mrsaugustwalker @skrsgardspam

#gustaf skarsgard #gustaf skarsgard fanfiction #shattered lives

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doctortreklock · 4 years ago

Text

AU-gust 20 - Single Parent(s) AU

For this. On AO3.

“C’mon, Dad! We’re going to be late,” Theo called up the stairwell.

“Almost ready,” Aaron called back from his closet, studying his tie in the mirror and putting the finishing touches on the knot.

Satisfied, he made his way downstairs to where his daughter was waiting for him. She’d obviously made an effort to dress up, wearing a yellow dress and flats. Her hair was natural and loose, and for a moment, she looked so much like her mother that Aaron couldn’t breathe.

Then she turned to look at him and she was his daughter, his Theo, again. “Hey, baby girl,” he managed around the lump in his throat. “You ready to go?”

She rolled her eyes at him, but she was smiling. “I’ve been ready to go for ages,” she complained. “Let’s go.”

Aaron laughed. “Okay, okay.” He grabbed his keys and his wallet and made sure to lock the door behind them.

Theo was unusually quiet on the drive to the restaurant. Aaron glanced over at her in the passenger seat to see her with her hands folded in her lap, knuckles white.

“It’s going to be just fine,” he told her, reaching over briefly to squeeze her hands. “I’m sure we’ll all get along. You get along with Philip’s dad, don’t you?” Theo nodded hesitantly, her head down. “And I like Philip,” Aaron told her firmly. “So there’s no reason to think this evening will be anything but a smashing success.”

Her hair obscured most of her face, but Aaron could see the edge of her smile, and her grip loosened slightly, so he figured she’d be all right.

It was true, he had met her boyfriend Philip several times when he’d come over so they could study together (and “study” together, but Aaron didn’t like to think about that). And he knew that Theo had been over to Philip’s house as well and met his father.

This was the first proper dinner with all four of them together, but Aaron was determined to get along with Philip’s father no matter what. If this relationship was important enough to Theo that she wanted him to meet Philip’s family, then he would move mountains to make it work.

The restaurant was a local, family-owned Italian place, not casual, but relaxed enough that it wouldn’t make the evening unbearably stuffy. Theo proudly gave her name to the hostess, and they were quickly led to their table.

It looked like Philip and his father were already there. They were talking to each other, so Aaron didn’t get a good look at the man until Philip spotted Theo. His face lit up, and Aaron smiled at the sight.

He thanked the hostess and turned to properly meet Philip’s father for the first time.

He froze. Or, rather, to meet him again apparently.

Theo turned away from Philip to make the introductions, apparently not noticing Aaron’s reaction.

“Dad, this is Philip’s father--”

“Alexander Hamilton,” Aaron supplied, mouth dry. He was proud that his voice didn’t give away how shaken he felt.

He held out a hand. In the back of his mind, he was surprised at how steady it was.

“Aaron,” Alex said, surprise audible in his voice. He reached out and gripped Aaron’s hand.

He didn’t shake it, he just held Aaron’s hand and Aaron’s gaze.

Aaron began to hear his heartbeat ringing in his ears and tried to keep his breath even. His entire world focused down to the man in front of him. The man he thought he'd never see again.

“You know each other?” Theo sounded confused.

“Pop, you’ve met Theo’s dad?” Philip echoed her.

It was too much.

“Excuse me,” Aaron said faintly. He pulled his hand free.

It wasn’t until he felt cool night air on his face that he realized he had walked out.

Aaron strode away from the doors and around the corner of the building. He wasn’t sure what his reaction was going to be, but he knew he didn’t want to have it in public.

He leaned against the building; he could feel the stucco’s rough texture and cool temperature through the cotton of his shirt. His hand was still warm from Alex’s skin.

For the first time, Aaron wished he had taken up smoking. This seemed like the opportune moment for a cigarette. Instead, he crossed his arms tightly across his chest to keep his hands from shaking and tried to focus on the few stars he could see overhead through the light pollution.

The night was quiet. Cars drove past on the main road, but it was muffled by the windbreak between the restaurant parking lot and the road. There were a few crickets starting to chirp.

There was the sound of Aaron trying hard to keep his breath steady.

It had been over twenty years. Why did Alex Hamilton still have the ability to tie him up in knots two decades after--

He closed his eyes and breathed.

The bar was loud and boisterous when Aaron walked in, spirits flowing freely and spirits running high. He saw some of his fellow law school students that he hadn’t seen in months and waved back at the Schuyler sisters. He dodged around a couple undergrads and avoided Mulligan and Laurens.

There was only one man he was here to see.

There was a burst of laughter from around the front of the building as a group left the restaurant and headed for their car. They drove off, and the night was quiet again.

He heard the careful crunch of shoes on gravel. He opened his eyes, but didn’t look to see who had come after him.

Breath hitching with anticipation, Aaron craned over heads and peered around shoulders, looking for a familiar figure.

There. By the wall, talking to Lafayette. Alexander.

Heart racing, Aaron made his way across the room.

“Hey,” he called.

Alex looked up and his face lit up in recognition. “Aaron Burr! Fancy meeting you here. How’s London?”

Aaron took a breath. “Can I talk to you?”

“Aaron,” Alex said quietly.

Aaron turned his head to see Alex standing at the corner of the building, his silhouette picked out in the light spilling from the front entrance.

“Alex,” he managed, his voice low.

Alex watched him warily, stepping forward until he stood in the shelter of the building. “Theo wanted to come,” he explained. “But I thought it would be best for us to talk first.”

Aaron bitterly remembered his earlier promise to himself to move mountains to keep her happy. Relocating a physical mountain might have been easier than facing Alexander Hamilton.

“Probably for the best,” he agreed.

“Sure.” Alex waved Aaron to follow him. As he brushed past Lafayette, Aaron heard him hiss, “You are the worst, Burr.”

Aaron pushed that aside and focused instead on Alex’s lithe figure as they wove their way through the crowd to a quiet spot in the back.

“What’s up?” Alex asked, once they were out of the loud bustle. “Haven’t seen you in ages.”

“Are you okay?” Alex asked, his voice gentle, so gentle. Aaron wanted to scream.

“Of course,” he said instead, forcing sarcasm into his words. “I always have panic attacks outside family restaurants when I’m okay.”

Alex inhaled sharply. “I’m sor--”

“Don’t apologize,” Aaron snapped. He couldn’t handle that. Not from this man. Not today.

For a moment, Aaron just took him in, trying to capture this moment in his memory forever. Alex looked a little drunk, loose and casual, leaning against the wall. His sleeves were rolled up and his tie was loose around his neck. He had the little half-smile he wore in his rare quiet moments, when he was content with the world and his place in it.

He was utterly breathtaking.

Aaron wiped his hands on his trousers, jittery tension flowing through him. The moment was here. The time was now.

“I didn’t know you were Theo’s dad,” Alex said instead. “I swear I didn’t.”

Aaron snorted. “I should have known,” he admitted. “Phillip looks just like you.”

“You’re my best friend, Alex,” he started. He’d practiced this in the mirror until he’d memorized it, like the opening statement for the most important trial of his life.

That didn’t make this any easier.

“You’re the most important person in my life, and you have been from the moment you walked up and introduced yourself, even if I didn’t know it at the time.” Alex went still. Aaron took a breath.

“Even though we’re both orphans, I know I’ll never be alone, because you’ve always been right beside me. I didn’t realize how important you’d become to me until I spent this semester abroad.”

Alex made a pained noise, but Aaron kept going. If he stopped now, he knew he’d never get up the courage to finish.

“I spent four months in London, visiting parks and museums and pubs and debating the fine points of international law with some of the best lawyers in the UK, and Alex-- All I could think about was how much better it would have been with you. You make every part of my life better, just by being in it.”

Aaron took a deep breath, almost dizzy with nerves and anticipation and the adrenaline of finally, finally, telling Alex what had become so clear to him. “I am in love with you, Alexander Hamilton.”

“I’m sorry,” Alex said quickly. “For what I said. Then.”

Aaron closed his eyes.

Alex looked shocked. “You-- You didn’t hear?” he said.

Aaron’s chest grew tight. “Hear what?” he asked, worst case scenarios already flickering through his mind.

“Didn’t I tell you?” Alex, who was always twelve steps ahead, looked lost.

“Tell me what?” Aaron demanded, desperation mounting behind his breastbone.

“Aaron,” Alex said, and - oh god - there was pity in his voice and sympathy on his face and Aaron couldn’t take this and-- “I got married.”

The world stopped.

“I know it must have been a shock.”

What? Did he say? Aaron couldn’t shape the questions that he needed to ask, words failing to capture all he needed to say.

“It was sudden, you know? Eliza and I just clicked and we eloped yesterday. This--” Alex laughed awkwardly, and Aaron heard it muffled from a thousand worlds away. “This is actually an impromptu reception.”

No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. This was worse than any nightmare could have predicted. Move aside, unexpected public speaking and presenting in court without pants, here comes confessing your love to a newly married man, Aaron thought giddily.

“I texted you about it,” Alex told him. “I swear I did. Yesterday. I mean, it wasn’t that serious before, but...”

Aaron stopped listening. There was nothing Alex could say now that would make it better. Only things that could make it infinitely worse.

His phone, his phone. The one he’d conscientiously turned off at the beginning of his flight and hadn’t checked since. The phone that could have told him this was coming.

“Not your fault,” Aaron managed around the lump in his throat the memories had conjured. “I should have known.”

“I’m still sorry.”

“Excuse me,” he heard himself mumble politely before swaying away from Alex and making a beeline for the door.

“Hey, Aaron, Aaron!” He heard the voice behind him, but didn’t stop. The numb wall inside him could only stand for so long, and he refused to compound his utter humiliation by breaking down in front of Alex.

As he stepped into the warm June night, he felt the first tears wet his cheeks.

“Then you left so suddenly,” Alex said. “And you were gone the next day. No one knew where you went. You just...vanished off the face of the earth.” There was hurt in his voice.

“A friend from high school put me up for a couple days,” Aaron said, looking back up at the stars. “Then I moved to California. Worked as a clerk for a while. Met Theodosia. Finished my degree at Stanford. Had Theo.” He kept his eyes on the sky. “Lost Theodosia.” Aaron swallowed. “Moved back here.”

The gravel crunched as Alex stepped closer. “My story’s similar,” he offered. “Lost my best friend. Had to drop out of school for a while because of it.”

Aaron looked sharply at Alex. Alex met his eyes and continued steadily. “Wrote a lot of journal articles and did a lot of paid research. Had Philip. Made some decisions I’m not proud of. Eliza divorced me. For good reason,” he admitted. “Juggled classes and shared custody to finish my JD.”

He stepped closer, an arm’s length away. “Moved back. Still missed my best friend like crazy.” Aaron couldn’t look away. Alex’s voice grew quieter, warmer. “Did some introspection. Realized some things I should have known twenty-five years ago.”

Gravel crunched, and Alex was there, right in front of him. Close enough to touch. Close enough to want, to make Aaron’s heart race again, not like it had twenty-five minutes ago, but how it had twenty-five years ago.

Apparently you never did get over your first love.

“Aaron,” Alex murmured.

“What did you realize?” Aaron asked, because he had to know. If this was going where he thought it might be, he had to know. Before it turned out just like twenty-five years ago.

“I started falling in love with you the moment I introduced myself,” Alex told him.

Aaron kissed him.

He reached out and he clutched Alex’s shoulders and he pulled Alex in, closer, ever closer. And Alex came willingly, folding himself into Aaron’s embrace and putting his hands on Aaron’s hips, pushing him back into the wall and pressing himself all along Aaron’s front.

He was there, surrounding him, until every sense was filled with Alex.

Aaron tasted him until he couldn’t breathe, and then he tucked his head into Alex’s neck. He didn’t smell the same, not nearly. But there were still notes that matched, that meant Alex in the back of his mind.

He wasn’t sure how long they stood there in the shadow of the restaurant, simply existing in each other’s space, before Alex murmured, “We should probably get back inside.”

Aaron lifted his head, only then registering how long it had been since he’d fled. “Oh god,” he said reflexively. “Theo.”

“They’re fine,” Alex told him, relaxing his hold and starting to step back.

Aaron found himself clutching Alex again, unwilling to let him go now that he was close enough to touch.

He cleared his throat. “Sorry,” he muttered, relinquishing his grip on Alex’s shirt.

Alex smiled at him softly. “They’re fine,” he repeated. “Worried, of course, but I told them I’d come talk to you. I told them to start without us,” he added. “So I think if we time it right, we might still make dessert.”

Aaron knew he was grinning like a loon, but he couldn’t help it. The adrenaline had given way to a flood of endorphins, and he didn’t know if he would ever stop smiling. “Sounds like a plan.”

He reached out for Alex’s hand and felt a flutter of happiness when it was immediately offered. The two men walked back to the front of the restaurant, shoulders brushing the whole way.

Aaron knew there was a lot left to do. He would need to reassure Theo, first of all. Probably sit her down and outline what had happened between him and Alex then and what was probably going to be happening now.

He needed to talk to Alex. A lot. Aaron glanced over at him. The content half-smile on his face was the same one that he’d worn twenty-five years ago, Aaron realized with a jolt. The one that meant everything was good.

He squeezed Alex’s hand just to have the other man look over at him and share a warm smile.

They would definitely need to talk. It might not lead to anything, though the strength of Alex’s grip said that was an unlikely possibility. It might lead to something good.

Or, Aaron thought as Alex held the door open for him, it might lead to something amazing.

#AUgust 2020 #hamilton #hamburr #theo x phillip #single parent au #modern au #i swear #i did not mean for this to get so out of hand #and it only got a cursory edit #because it's 1:30am #and i have work tomorrow #second chances #alex and aaron being adorable

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sharinluna · 5 years ago

Text

Chapter 21 Translation Part 3

Chapter 19

Chapter 19.5

Chapter 20

Chapter 21 Translation Part 1

Chapter 21 Translation Part 2

Please keep in mind that this is a very rushed translation and I skipped more parts than I wanted to.

**********************************

Even after I had escaped from Ares’s clutches, my heart was still beating wildly.

“Do you still think you’re ordinary? Like other Evolvers, you will be ostracized, discriminated, persecuted, and in the end, killed. Because you are all EVILs.”

The voice ringing inside my head was scouring away the peaceful illusion to candidly reveal the brutal truth.

Yōurán: What is exactly this EVIL they’re talking about…?

The buzzing from my phone brought me back to where I was. I was standing at a crossroad.

The weather was clear. Sunlight shown brightly among thick clouds, but it wasn’t enough to drive away the frost in my heart.

I started to doubt the world in front of my eyes. Was this world real? or another dream?

Yōurán: Can I go back to how the things used to be?

Back when everything was peaceful and beautiful. Would I never get that warmth back?

Yōurán: If I can’t go back, I have to go forward.

I checked my phone to see a text from Ling Xiao.

Ling Xiao: Because I feel so good today I’ll give you a little advice. Don’t go southeast today.

I looked up and saw the direction I was heading was southeast.

Yōurán: Is he watching me from nearby?

I surveyed the surroundings but couldn’t find him.

Yōurán: How did he know that I was heading southeast…?

Grumbling about why he would send me such cryptic texts, I replied back. When the light turned green, I continued where I was going without an ounce of hesitation.

***********************************************

In another part of Loveland city, many figures were confronting each other in a barren land covered with snow. A young man was surrounded by many but he seemed quite cool about it. He looked at the tense faces of his opponents with a mocking smile.

Just then, his phone rang out lightly, startling everyone except him. With no hurry, he fished out his phone from his pocket and checked the reply. There was only one word. “Thanks.”

It was a simple word but Ling Xiao realized right away that she didn’t believe him one bit.

Ling Xiao: Alas, everything I’ve sad were not lies.

He put his phone back and looked back to the others. Knuckle sounds came out when he flexed his wrists.

Ling Xiao: Time to play, fellows.

At that instant, purple lightening gathered into his palms and gales of wind blew around. The air current became volatile and you could hear the electricity sizzling in the air. Black clouds formed in the sky and everything turned dark like a night. The wrath of the Nature itself made everyone cower in fear.

Ling Xiao: I’ll make it short. I’m running out of time.

His entire form was encircled by lightening as he charged forward. Blood-curdling screams were heard at every second. Soon, he was the only one standing on the ground. With a leering smile he went to the only one who still conscious and bent down to him.

Ling Xiao: Tell me, who sent you? The Special Task Force or…Black Swan?

************************************************************

I noticed that I was being followed. I quickened my steps determined to go where it was crowded. I chanced a look behind as I turned a corner and saw my tail. It was an ordinary-looking man wearing a baseball cap. The only thing not ordinary was the clear malice in his eyes looking at me.

Yōurán: Oh, great…

Quick as a flash someone from behind covered my mouth with something and I couldn’t see anything at all. I tried not to lose consciousness but soon everything became dark.

*********************************************************

??: Are you sure we got the right person?

??: We’ve been following her, she is linked to them…

Their conversation woke me up. I opened my eyes to see that I was in a deserted building.

Mystery Man: You woke up quick.

He was wearing his hood low that I couldn’t see his face.

Yōurán: Who are you? Why did you kidnap me?

I tried to sit up with my wrists tied around my back.

Mystery Man: We already gave you a warning, Miss.

Yōurán: Warning?

Mystery Man: It seems that your memories are poor, EVIL.

I thought back to the crimson words on the computer screen yesterday. So it wasn’t just some prank. And these were the guys who manipulated the online opinions!

Yōurán: Who the hell are you?!

Mystery Man: We are those who are trying to save the world that you Evolvers are trying to destroy.

He bent down close to me.

Mystery Man: Don’t try lying to me. Are you the “Queen”?

I tried to answer back as nonchalantly as possible.

Yōurán: What Queen? I’m not a queen of anything. I think you got the wrong person.

Mystery Man: You’re nervous.

He slowly stood up again.

Mystery Man: But it doesn’t matter if you’re really Queen or not. If we say you are, then you are.

Yōurán: But… what is your reason for doing this?

Mystery Man: Be patient, Queen. Soon you’ll know everything.

He laughed cruelly.

Mystery Man: Then… all of you EVILS will die.

His words had a sense of déjà vu…. I looked down so he wouldn’t see my eyes widen in shock.

This was the guy from my vision from yesterday! And likely he is the one behind the explosion!

Why would he do this? What would he gain from causing an explosion and blaming it on Evolvers? I knew what the answer was but couldn’t face the horrendous truth.

I had to get out of here. I kept struggling with my wrists until my fingers landed on a cold metal. It was Helios’s knife. Thank god that I had remembered to keep it with me before I left the house. Trying not to slice my skin, I discreetly started to cut the ropes.

Just then, a pebble dropped next to me out of nowhere. I looked up and the sudden light made me squint to see who it was. His silver hair shown in the light. Stealthily he slid down a rope and landed on the ground with speed.

Helios…. I called out his name in my head. He glanced at me with a subtle smile.

Helios: Found you.

The lighthearted way he said those words, and the way he faintly smiled at me made me think that he was glad to see me. But soon he regained his cold exterior.

Mystery man: Who are you?! How did you get in here!?

They surrounded him and pointed their weapons at them.

Helios: Shut up.

Helios said as he kicked the man who had been charging towards him with annoyance.

Yōurán: Be careful!

I shouted. But he had already dodged the next attack. He was so fast that his moves were a blur. He dodged every attack and landed his own with grace and strength. It was like watching a silver moonlight dancing in flowing moves. I sat there dazed, unable to avert my eyes from him.

It took him only fifteen minutes to take down the last one. After the fight was done he slowly walked towards me.

Yōurán: He…

Even before I could finish calling his name he brushed past me and continued to walk away from me.

Yōurán: Wait…!

I felt baffled that he would ignore me completely like this. Helios looked behind me with disinterest in his eyes.

Helios: What is it?

Yōurán: Could you… perhaps… untie me lose…?

I tried to look pitifully at him as I gestured toward my wrists.

Helios: Hm? But they almost seem undone.

Yōurán: Yes, but…

Helios: You’ve been working on it. There doesn’t seem any need for me to step in.

Yōurán: But…

I kept wrestling with the rope, but couldn’t find the final stroke that would loosen the ties. And the bodies around me were making me nervous.

Yōurán: Could you please help me while you are at it?

I added emphasis on “while you are at it”. There was a slight grin in his face as he watched me with his arms crossed.

Helios: Why should help you “while I am at it”?

Yōurán: Well… I don’t know why you came here, but you seem to be against them, right? It might not sit well for your plan if they manage to capture me again…

I tried desperately to persuade him.

Yōurán: Please… I’ve only been dragged into this.

Helios: All right.

I don’t know what convinced him, but Helios agreed to help me. He came close to me and bent down. Suddenly I could gaze into his grey-blue eyes. Clear and transparent like ice.

Helios: Give me the knife.

The close proximity dazzled me and I found myself unable to move or say anything. With a low chuckle Helios took the knife from my hands and with a few swift moves the ropes binding my wrists were gone.

Yōurán: Thank you.

I replied as I massaged my wrists to make the blood flow again.

Helios gently stroked the knife with his fingers. His eyes seemed to have become a little gentler.

Helios: This is a good knife.

He gave the knife back into my hands. Taken aback, I took the knife and after a bit of hesitation, handed it back to him. I wanted to give it back to the owner.

Yōurán: Take it, it was yours anyway- I mean, you can have it if you want.

Helios: I don’t except bribes without reason.

With that curt reply, he turned around and started to walk away. Not wanting to part with him just yet, I gathered myself and quickly followed him.

Yōurán: Do you know what they were about to do back there? Are they Evolvers or not? Why are they looking for Queen?

Helios: You ask too many questions.

And it seemed like he wasn’t about to answer any of them.

Yōurán: I’m an Evolver too. So I need to know-

Helios: So what?

His callous words made me freeze midsentence.

Helios: Do you think Evols are a good thing?

There was taunting in his voice. I couldn’t understand the meaning behind his question so I asked back.

Yōurán: Then, do you think Evols are a bad thing? My father always said to me that they were just people who are a little bit different. That they were the same as everyone else. So I can’t understand why some Evolvers would want to get rid of non-Evolvers. And I can’t understand why non-Evolvers would hate Evolvers as well.

Helios stayed silent and continued to walk on.

Helios: Maybe you’re right. But human nature is complicated.

When he reached the end of the corridor he opened the exit door and walked outside. But I couldn’t follow him as I was weighed down with what he said.

Was my father wrong? Were my thoughts too naïve and idealistic?

Sunlight could be seen outside the door but I couldn’t feel any light. As I stood still, I suddenly saw a flash of light speeding towards me. I instinctively held out my arm to shield the attack.

Helios: What are you doing?!

Helios had already struck the strange man into unconsciousness. I looked at Helios who had crushed his attacker so quickly.

His icy gaze held inordinate amount of fury as he glared at me which was unusual for his overall apathetic behavior.

Helios: Did you think you could stop the knife with bare hands?!

Yōurán: Uh, no… not exactly…

I whispered feebly.

Helios: I warned you before to stop acting so reckless!

His anger seemed to have got the better of him and he grabbed my wrist and dragged me outside. I was suddenly struck at how his hands were similar to someone I used to know.

Yōurán: Are you really not K….

I couldn’t finish the question. Why did I suddenly feel the need to mention that name to him?

Helios: It stops now.

Helios finally let go of my wrist.

Yōurán: …..Helios.

He looked at me.

Yōurán: Will things get better? What are your reasons for coming here?

Helios: If I tell you, what can you do about it?

Yōurán: At least I’m…

Helios: It seems that you can’t accept yourself that you’re powerless.

I was trapped in a little cage he made with his body against the wall. The cruelty in his face crumbled the last of my shields.

Helios: The weak should learn to survive on their own. No one will help them.

I wanted to contradict him but the words wouldn’t come out. I bit my lower lips trying not cry.

Yōurán: I don’t want to remain helpless either.

I forced myself to look straight into his eyes.

Yōurán: I don’t want to be kept sheltered as the others protect me. I don’t want to be kept in the dark when the people I care about are hurt or gone. I’m trying to become better and stronger, but…

I couldn’t continue. My willpower seemed so insignificant and was about to be overwhelmed by massive waves of despair and misery.

Helios: Then become stronger.

He wasn’t taunting me anymore. Instead he was talking to me clearly and sincerely.

Helios: Do everything you can, by fair means or foul. Give up everything in your past… even yourself. If you can’t do that, then go back to the world you came from.

For the last time, he turned around and walked away from me, this time without looking back.

I sagged to the ground and let the tears fall.

Could I risk everything, abandon everything I have inside me to become strong enough to protect the loved ones?

I felt like I was in a bottomless pit without any light or a way out. I was completely alone in this world, forsaken and forgotten. The feelings of solitude were enough to suffocate me.

Yōurán: Should I really let it all go away?

If I give up on the beautiful memories of the past, would they disappear? Could I never get them back? I continued to sit there until my hands and feet were frozen when the phone rang.

Yōurán: …Hello?

Ling Xiao: It’s only been a day since we parted and you already sound terrible. I guess my hunches were right this time too.

I thought of his message to not go southeast.

Yōurán: Did you know what was going to happen?

Ling Xiao: I want to say yes but… frankly I’m not that omniscient.

Yōurán: I don’t know what I should do from here…

I hung my head low and my voice shook.

Yōurán: Is there nothing I can do to make everyone’s memories return? I don’t know what’s the right thing to do…

Ling Xiao didn’t respond right away.

Ling Xiao: I can’t give you an answer. Only you, the Queen, can change the world. You can do everything you put your mind to. It is in your powers to make the world you want. You can turn everything into chaos, or even end the world right now if you would choose to do so.

Yōurán: I would never want that in my life!

Ling Xiao: You don’t have to feel the need to deny it, I’m not interested anyway. But there’s no time for you to sit and wallow in despair. I’m looking forward to what kind of future you – the one and only Queen in the universe - will bring into this world.

***********************************************************

Next day I was browsing through my phone in my room when I saw this news.

“Rumors spread that the Riverside bridge explosion were done by people with superpowers. The show <Miracle Finder> has been receiving threats and hatred because it’s a show about superpowers. A lot of angry mobs are demoing outside of the producing company.”

Yōurán: How did it spread so quickly?

It took only 30 hours until whispers from a small internet website grew into massive protest demonstrations. Things were becoming worse faster than I anticipated.

I hurried to get to my company right away.

The protesters were banging their fists against the locked entrance. The people inside – my people – were trapped and at their mercy.

I called the police and looked for a way past the angry mob.

Yōurán: Please be safe… Anna, Kiki, Willow, Minor…

Mob A: I know that woman! She works in here!

A shrill shout sent waves of disrupt among the mob. I looked to where they were pointing and my heart sank.

Yōurán: Kiki!

Kiki was being confronted by swarms of protesters. She looked so small and helpless against them. I watched her fall hard onto the floor as someone pushed her. That seemed to be a switch that turned everyone violent. They all crowded around her to assault her.

Yōurán: Where is the police… what’s taking them so long…?!

I bit my lips hard.

Yōurán: There’s no other way around!

Taking a deep breath, I charged in. I pushed and struggled past the crowd blocking my way and managed to reach Kiki.

Kiki: You are…

Yōurán: Hurry!

I helped her stand up and lead her towards the entrance. That was the only safe place at the moment. I heard Kiki crying softly. It took a lot of effort, but I succeeded in pushing her inside the building.

Kiki: Be careful!

Her warning came too late. I already lost my balance and fell to the floor. The crowds gathered around me now. Their faces were full of animalistic contempt, but I couldn’t find the man who was behind all this. I’m sure he was lurking in the shadows after he made these people into his puppets to do his deeds. The thought sent waves of revulsion in my veins.

Mobs: You monsters…!!!

I covered my head and waited for the blow to come.

Then, everything stopped and went quiet. I looked up.

Victor was pushing his way through the crowds. I stared at him, wondering why he would come here.

Victor: Do you think you can walk?

Yōurán: Victor…

I whispered his name.

Victor: Are you in shock?

He bent down to examine my face.

Yōurán: No, I’m fine!

I hurriedly tried to stand up.

Yōurán: !!!

The sharp pain from my sprained ankle almost made me fall back down. Thankfully, Victor grabbed me from falling. He looked at my injured leg.

Victor: Did you sprain your ankle?

Yōurán: It’s nothing, just give me your arm and I can walk-

With a slight tsk he lifted me up and my feet were dangling in the air. It was like the first time we met 17 years ago when he saved me from getting hit by a car. Snows were suspended in midair in the halted time as he walked to his car carrying me in his arms.

Maybe he didn’t remember me, maybe I was nothing to him at all. But my heart still continued to flutter in the same way around him.

The car door was left open, showing how quickly he got off to reach me.

Victor: Get in.

I slowly sat in the passenger seat. Victor closed the car door for me.

Yōurán: Why did you come here?

Victor: I was in the neighborhood.

He replied curtly and asked me sternly.

Victor: Why were you there? To protest?

Yōurán: No, not to protest, I…

Victor: Did you want to become a hero and save people?

His matter-of-fact accuse stung and I hung my head down.

Radio: LFG is going to invest in buying the share of HBS. Is this groundwork for adventuring to American markets? Financial specialists say…

I banged my head into a window in my hurry to look at him. Victor was looking at me very strangely but I didn’t care. I was too busy dealing with what I heard on the radio.

Yōurán: HBS… why… did LFG really decide to invest in HBS?

Victor frowned and I realized that what I asked was rude.

Victor: You got a problem with that?

Yōurán: Why would you-

I stopped talking. Victor forgot everything about me. He didn’t remember the time when HBS set up an elaborate trap to attack me. He didn’t know that Black Swan was behind HBS. He probably didn’t even know what Black Swan was. After choosing my words carefully, I finally asked him.

Yōurán: Have you ever heard of an organization called Black Swan?

Victor: Just tell me directly what you want to say.

Yōurán: Black Swan is behind HBS. It is a dangerous and controversial organization. Could you think again about investing in there?

Victor: The decision’s already been made by the board members a month ago.

I opened my mouth to argue but was interrupted by the turmoil outside.

*******************************************************************

Yōurán: Maybe this is all my fault?

Victor: What fault?

Once it started, it was difficult not to fall into the trap of relentless self-reproach.

My fault for existing at all.

My fault for changing the future.

My fault for coming back alive.

My fault for failing to stop this.

My fault for being unable to do anything as destructions happened right in front of my eyes...!!!

Victor: Stop it!

His shout stopped me from spiraling down into the pit deeper. He grabbed my arms firmly and made me look at him.

His words made me calm and cool-headed. I couldn’t afford to forever continue feeling sorry for myself.

Yōurán: I’m sorry…

I took a deep breath and looked up at him.

Yōurán: My Evol is precognition. I can foresee the future. I saw many deaths and calamities. Some of them already happened, others not yet. But even though I know what’s going to happen, I am powerless to stop it.

Victor: …I don’t know what you went through. But if what you say is true, someone very powerful must be behind all the disasters and they have been preparing this for a long time.

Victor: They have nothing to do with you. And you are not obligated to put a stop to this.

Yōurán: But it has to be stopped, and I can’t just do nothing! If I were smarter, or stronger I…

I couldn’t hold it back anymore.

Yōurán: If someone else had the same powers, they would have been able stop it!

Victor: There is no point in making assumptions like that.

Yōurán: I know. It is useless to think about might-have-beens. But I still think about it… I’m an idiot, right?

Victor: Yes, you are.

Victor: But it is still in your powers to stop it. There is no time for regretting the past.

There was no ridicule nor criticism in his words, just the plain truth.

Yōurán: If my choices can change the future, I can stop it from happening. But if I choose wrong, something far worse may happen. What is the right choice? Should I change the future or let it be and conform to it?

This time Victor didn’t answer right away.

Victor: Don’t you already have an answer to that?

Yōurán: Do you think I’ll succeed, then?

Victor: No one knows.

He smiled faintly and his voice turned soft.

Victor: But I hope you can.

I blinked. Finally, I felt like I could smile again.

Yōurán: Thank you, I will.

I vowed that I would not hesitate or think about failure. Whatever choice I made, I could deal with the outcome. I will do everything I can to find out the truth, stop the catastrophes, and solve everything.

Not just because this was my responsibility and duty as Queen, but because I want to with all my heart. I will give everything I have to save everyone in this world.

Until the sun shines again.

Until we meet again under the stars.

Until I can finally say to them: “Hello. My name is Yōurán. I came back.”

*****************************************************************

Snow seemed to be never-ending in this year’s winter. A man looked down at the white city with a faint smile.

Zhuo Yi: What a beautiful, cold, endless winter….

***************************************************************

Chapter 19: You thought you were dating the guys happily but that was a fake and you’re stuck freezing in eternal winter.

Chapter 20: All the boys don’t remember you and they are not the ones you used to know and love.

Chapter 21: You sacrificed your life to save the world and now you’re stuck in this world where Evolvers and Non-evolvers are fighting each other.

Zhuo Yi: What a beautiful winter world!

Me: SHUT UP!!

If Evolvers are a metaphor of the minority in this batch of chapters, then the feud between Evolvers and Non-evolvers are not totally unrelated to real-life conflicts between different various groups.

My father always said to me that Evolvers were just people who are a little bit different. That they were the same as everyone else.

This time, MC’s fighting for peace, for harmony, for inherent rights of the people and intrinsic values of life, and for equality.

I know that translation’s more wacky in this one, but please give me some encouraging words. I’m a complete wreck. Why did I even start this...

#mlqc #mr love queen's choice #mlqc translation

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nettheworldonfire · 5 years ago

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Bottle v.s. Boob

Breast is Best is our little girl's motto. In fact, if she were old enough, Olive would probably have the bumper sticker. This is why weaning my 6.5 month old, before her body or mine is ready, is a pretty devastating feat. Let me start by saying, I think formula is amazing. I have no qualms with those who choose to formula feed for their or their baby's best interest. Formula has everything a baby needs, built right in, and has the convenience of being able to be given by ANYONE (in theory). I went back to work at 3 months postpartum with Charlie. I was never able to keep up with a demanding pumping schedule, and slowly, my supply decreased, making Charlie exclusively formula fed by 8 months. Knowing I was headed back to work and that this might happen, we got him used to the bottle right away. We made sure he would take formula and everything went very smoothly. This time was different. Knowing I would be home with Olive for a year, I didn’t NEED to bottle feed. Still, I would obviously appreciate a break, or need one to write my dissertation, so we tried the bottle here and there. She would take an ounce on occasion, but often spit that up quickly, and sometimes violently refused, allowing milk to pool in her mouth and causing her to gag/choke.

Finding out that I have about 2 weeks to wean Olive may be the worst part (thus far) of this entire ordeal. Nutritionally, I think we can get her to eat what she needs to. She eats a lot of healthy solids. Fruit and vegetable purees and small pieces of fruit like pineapple, avocado, watermelon, and banana. She's eating eggs, yogurt, a little rice, noodles, and puffed rice snacks. There are plenty of other things I know she can and will enjoy eating - and I have been doing some research on high fat and high calorie foods. We've already started adding formula to yogurt and puree mixes, and she doesn't seem to mind. I can use it as the water in macaroni and cheese, or syringe it in her if absolutely needed. Plus, the pediatrician believes that with the types and amount of solids she eats, as long as we keep her calorie intake high enough (and not let her stuff her face with puffs and teething crackers) she should be fine. The issue is that Olive uses nursing as a sleep aid. When she's tired, that's all she can think about - the mom-nip. She is violently opposed to any other form of nipple entering her mouth, won't take a pacifier, and gets more and more frustrated. She does eventually calm with rocking and bouncing and singing, and will fall asleep in less than 20 minutes. She does not self-soothe and I have no interest in letting her "cry it out" - especially considering what is going on right now. Overnight, Olive cluster-feeds. I know this is more about comfort than hunger, but it works for us. She basically goes right back to sleep, making my life easier and not waking Owen and Charlie, and she's content. She pretty much sleeps for 10-12 hours most nights like this (waking to feed and drifting back to sleep). It isn’t perfect, but it works for us.

Once I realized this would have to soon end, I started keeping track of things. On Tuesday night, she woke up to feed five times. On Wednesday night, when I actively tried to change the routine, she woke four times and one of those times I rocked her to sleep instead of nursing. Last night, she woke up twice and I managed to only nurse her once. This involved one 4:30 a.m. fiasco, but it was manageable. Between the sleep deprivation of this sort of thing and being sick though, I am exhausted. And she generally seems less happy, which makes my heart heavy. This isn't the first time my body has failed me, but it is the first time my body is failing someone I love, and that is hard.

Aside from the emotional turbulence this is causing for everyone in the house, I also have the horrible awareness that stopping nursing will bring back the postpartum period hemorrhage that I so dread. (And I apologize if that was too much information, but want you to be aware this will not be the last time I do that in this blog - so the decision to be grossed out is yours).

Yesterday, I saw the amazing Louisa at the Breastfeeding Resource Center. This organization was a godsend when I was having challenges nursing Charlie as a newborn and I went back with Olive just for a refresher. When I emailed them to ask for tips or help with weaning, they again stepped up to the plate and were kind and informative, making me feel like I had a team of knowledgeable ladies in my corner (I know, I have hundreds out there ready and willing to advise and help, but this resource has just been incredible). That being said, there wasn't much "success" at this appointment. Olive wouldn't take the MAM bottle for them (I purchased one at their request to bring along to appointment). We've now tried the Enfamil disposable nipples (Charlie loved these), Tommy Tippee (Close to Nature), Spectra, the Mamijumi (some minor success), and the Honey Bear sippy cup that the doctor suggested, also. She’s also tried a variety of sippy and straw-style toddler cups. Nothing seems to be quite perfect, but we are going to keep trying. The BRC also gave me a nipple shield, typically used on a break to help a baby who struggles to latch to mom’s nipple. Several people mentioned that this may ease the transition from breast to bottle - so I would like to try (and it saved me the few dollars I was going to spend. Good thing too, because I am spending like $500 trying to find a bottle or pacifier or anything to soothe this little lady). The one thing that Lousia suggested which may be a game changer is birth control. She said many women take it to help reduce their supply. That may really make life a lot better. I HATE pumping. And to pump just to throw away my poisonous milk (that my daughter wants so badly but can't have) would just be torture. And how long will it take for me to naturally dry up? Plus - she could potentially nurse for comfort still if my body isn't dispensing anything into her mouth. I will obviously follow up with my OBGYN about the birth control and lactation question - but the BFC seemed to think this was an option. It could even help with a gradual decrease and therefore, a more natural wean.

I had always planned to look into medication for anxiety and moodiness after I was done having babies and breastfeeding, so I spoke with my primary about that this week. I've been struggling for a few years but didn't want to start anything I would have to stop during pregnancy or nursing, so I held off. I suppose this is a little bit of a silver lining. I am going to start Lexapro to combat some of the anxiety that is obviously getting worse with this looming shitstorm. I took Lexapro for a few months in 2010 when I had a little mental health struggle about six months after my dad passed away. I didn't love it. While I do think it did what I was hoping it would do (which was to help me break a weird cycle of crying/depression), it made me very, very tired (like needed to pull over to sleep during a 30 minute drive home from work tired), and I weaned off of the drug within a few months. I was lucky to not need it again. In 2012, before my Whipple I had HORRIBLE anxiety and a few attacks for which I was prescribed Xanax to help calm me (just a few days before the procedure). That definitely worked, but I felt under the influence at work, and probably shouldn't have been driving - so that wasn't ideal either. We will see how Lexapro does this time around and if I don't see much of a change - I may be asking you all for your favorites. My doctor is starting me on a very, very low dose to try to avoid the exhaustion, and we will go from there. Think happy thoughts.

In other news, after getting booted to Thursday for my biopsy, I got the automated call reminding me of my Monday appointment today. So I tried to speak with a real human and couldn't get ahold of anyone to check. It would be nice to know if I am having a procedure on Monday before Monday (for childcare, my mental health, planning, etc.) so if you have any idea on how to get this information (hospital is Nazareth) then please share!

On Monday, I have to call the OBGYN, the pediatrician, and Penn (to schedule my second opinion, for after the biopsy results are in).

* Dark side: Denying your baby a basic necessity is totally depressing.

* Bright side: When Olive is weaned, I am going to get so freaking drunk, you just watch.

* Next steps:

2/20/20 at 9:00 am - Liver biopsy under sedation (or is it 2/17/20 at 11:00 a.m., who knows)

3/2/20 at 10:15 am - Oncology appt. with Dr. Rose

* Inappropriate, but totally relevant, GIF -

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monachopticrebel · 6 years ago

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Jungkook Imagine

There you were, lying on the bed since the last 4 hours. In your opinion, it wasn’t you but the bed’s fault because the bed had finally decided to swallow you whole. You were one of those people that believed that being busy was the only way to live life and taking up time for yourself was a sin you could never commit. So when you were visited by the fever demon from the lowest pits of hell (104Oc to be exact) you were beyond disappointed and tried to blame your bed for keeping you unproductive instead of your little rain dance at night yesterday.

Suddenly your phone buzzed that put you out of the little trance that you kept going into from time to time because of the throbbing headache that the cold brought with itself.

To call your room a mess would still be a compliment and finding your phone in that hoard of tissues that surrounded you was a task you couldn’t make yourself tend to. However, the phone kept on ringing. On the third bell, you decided that this buzzing noise would be the end of you if you didn’t gather enough strength to answer it now. Clearly, the person who was calling you wasn’t going to stop until you answered them so you finally succumbed.

The name on the call screen brought a smile to your face but you didn’t want to bother him so you straightened yourself up and cleared your throat to sound as normal as possible.

“Hello?” you said, sounding pretty normal.

“Hello? That’s how you’re gonna start this conversation? I’ve been calling you for the past half an hour. What happened? Are you okay?” He sounded concerned, which made your heart flutter but you pushed that thought away. He was your best friend. Nothing else. Right?

“What would happen to me Jungkook? I’m perfectly fine. I was just busy doing work. That’s all.” You replied. It was getting harder to control your voice now, a cough was slowing making its way to your throat.

“Hmm…Okay…I just felt like checking up on you because I called you at your office number and they told me that you hadn’t come to office today. Considering, you never take a holiday and have absolutely no regard for your health, I got worried.” Jungkook said, his voice was an amalgamation of worry and annoyance and it reminded you of the countless times he had reprimanded you for your work ethic and had asked you to make use of your paid holidays but you had obviously ignored his advice.

“Well, thank you so much for worrying about me but I guess you were mistaken. I am t-totally, perfectly fine.” You said, happy and proud of yourself because this conversation was finally going to end and you had succeeded in concealing your illness from him. But the universe had other plans. With your complete focus on keeping your voice steady, you let a sniffle escape. Shit. To top that off, that cough finally decided that enough was enough and gave you a full-blown cough attack.

“I knew it. I fricking knew it! You’re sick right? God!! You are so weird. What is with you and being busy. Why can’t you admit that you are human and can get sick too? And how do you plan to get better? By doing more work?! Gosh!”

You disconnected the call; not because you were angry but because you knew he was right and you really weren’t in the mood to get a scolding. You knew this was coming the minute you sniffled. You deserved it though. You really did have a hard time to allow yourself to rest and you felt like this cold was God's way of telling you to give up the act and rest.

You felt guilty about pushing him away and being rude by cutting the call but you didn’t want anyone to see you like this; weak, gross and vulnerable. You drifted into sleep while your mind bombarded you with these thoughts.

You must’ve napped for like 20 minutes when your phone buzzed again. Groaning, you picked up the phone to see Jungkook’s name on the call screen again. It was 2 am now. Why would he call you again after you’ve been such a brat to him and that too this late at night?

“Hello?” you croaked, not caring about your hoarse voice this time.

“Hey. Let me in. I’m outside with your favorite pizza.”

To say you were shocked would be an understatement. Jeon Jungkook: Your best friend (and crush) was outside your door at 2 am, freezing with your favorite pizza? Wait FREEZING?! Shit. Your fluttering heart had to wait.

In a bout of adrenaline at imagining your best friend freezing outside you rushed to the door but before opening it, you stopped.

You sighed and shook your head. Great. Now someone will see you in your most gross state. You tried to get up to clean up at least the tissues on the floor but failed miserably and decided to accept your fate. Let Jeon Jungkook have a peak at your vulnerable state. It was time you decided to trust him. He had shown you that he was someone you could trust and someone you could count on, so here goes nothing.

“Hey!! What are you doing here at such a late hour?” you said while opening the door. Dumb move though.

“Y/N I knew you were dumb but didn’t think you were that dumb. I just told you I’m here with your favorite pizza and to give you company. Plus, who’s going to take care of you huh? Your work?” Jungkook said while pushing himself through the door and into the house.

Heat quickly rushed to your cheeks at his sweet words and you hoped he wouldn’t notice it.

“Hey!!! I’m sick, don’t call me dumb!!” you whined, letting your guard down finally and letting him see your childish side.

You didn’t know what it was but Jungkook just made you feel so light and just safe. It was so weird. People say that when you have a crush your heart beats like crazy, your breathe hitches but with Jungkook it’s all so calm and free.

He put the pizza on the living room table top and sat down on the couch with a grunt.

“Netflix and Cuddles? You can choose the movie since you’re sick. I’ll make an exception today.” He said, with his bunny teeth smile on full display.

His smile. Oh god. How could someone be so cute? This bunny literally made your disease bearable for a moment there. Movies and cuddles couldn’t hurt right? It was time you let yourself rest so that you could work better. Gosh. You were still thinking about work.

“Okay sure. Thank you Sire for making an exception for me!!” you bowed and giggled. You swear you were already feeling a little better.

You sat at the opposite side of the sofa, careful to maintain a distance with him so as to not get him sick too.

“What are you doing, sitting so far away from me? Come here” Jungkook said with his arms wide open.

“W-What? Are you crazy? No. I’m sick; Jungkook and I can’t possibly let you get sick too because of me. Think about all the work that will pile up.”

“Okay. We are setting some ground rules. One, no talking about work and two, no talking about work. Not everyone is a workaholic like you sweetheart. Now come on and just let me cuddle you, I am not going to get sick, you baby.” He giggled.

Your heart became so full from his endearing actions. You really really could use some hugs right now. So without any further ado you slid yourself in his arms that were still open for you.

“There you go. Much better right?” He smirked.

Oof. This cocky little shit.

“Yes. Much better.” You said while tightening your grasp around his waist. Gosh. This was exactly what you needed. Movies, cuddles and your favorite person right next to you.

You binged watched a K-Drama for at least 3 hours when the light of dawn broke you out of your trance.

“Shit! Its 5 am..!! You’ll be late for work Jungkook!! Let’s stop now.” You said, half alarmed- half tired; trying to get out of his grasp.

However, his grasp on you tightened even more.

“I’m taking an off today and tomorrow too if I don’t see any improvement in your condition. I’m also not letting you get up from and do any kind of work until I know you’re hundred percent better again.” He said in a low, raspy voice signifying his tiredness. “Come on, let’s rest babygirl”. You happily accepted the invitation and drifted to sleep in a matter of seconds.

Even though no words were spoken on this topic that day, you and Jungkook knew that this incident was the start of something new. For better or for worse; but it was time when you finally opened your heart to love and be loved.

A/N : My first post and imagine guys! More to comeeee!!! 😁😁

#bts jungkook #bts imagines #bts reactions #jungkook #jungkook imagine #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts as best friend #bts scenarios #jungkook prompt #jungkook x reader #bangtan sonyeondan #bts #jeon jungkook #kpop #bts x reader #bts au

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cupcakegumbo · 6 years ago

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Panic!

Our best friend is diabetic and autistic. We all met around the same time, and my husband and I have been his closest friends since we met, so we have known him going on 30 years. Every other week, my husband and I run him around and help him do his errands, as he doesn't have a car of his own, and he really doesn't like to drive. This is a twice monthly thing that we do for him when he gets his paychecks. In return for our company and driving him around, he likes to end our trip into town by stopping somewhere to eat, and he picks up the tab. This is one of his favorite parts of the day. We have learned over the years, that there are things that our friend just doesn't think about due to his autism, and if we don't take them into account there will be issues with our anxiety as we try to readjust our plans. Due to being diabetic, our friend needs to eat rather regularly. Not wanting to inconvenience us, he often forgets to eat something before meeting up. We have tried to explain to him that it's better if he eats something before we leave, so that he doesn't start having issues with low blood sugar, as it really affects his ability to think and function. He does try, and we know that he isn't trying to make things difficult for us when he doesn't eat. He just doesn't notice when his blood sugar is dropping and assumes that he will be fine; this happens nearly every time. So my husband has simply started taking it into account that he will not have eaten anything in his rush to meet up with us, so the first stop we make is to get him something small to eat to bring his blood sugar up to level. For my husband, keeping everything outlined on a list, helps him to keep his anxiety in check. So now the first thing that we do when we all get in the car, is ask him if he's eaten anything. When the answer is no, my hubby immediately knows to add a quick food stop to the top of his list. Any deviation from his list tends to throw my hubby into chaos. Yesterday was such a day. It was a hot day, the temperature got up into the mid 90s'. (About 32 degrees Celsius, for the non Americans.) We started out asking our friend if he had eaten and the answer was no. So my husband nodded, and mentally adjusted his list. I started to comment and he gave me a panicked look and a wave of his hand. I nodded and told him no problem, I understood. He laughed and said that he had a momentary wave of euphoria because I had agreed with him and basically confirmed that he had this. So the day started out okay, things were under control. We stopped and got our friend a bite to eat, and were back on track. One of my hubbies conditions due to his anxiety and PTSD, is hyper vigilance. That means that his brain is constantly on alert for trouble or danger. This can be both a good thing and a bad thing. It's a good thing, because he is very aware of other drivers and is constantly on the lookout for dangerous situations. This is also a bad thing, because his brain never stops doing that. It is constantly looking for trouble and trying to adjust when it thinks it spots some. Which means that he's hyper aware of me as well, and is constantly trying to keep me safe. So if I negatively react to something, (even subconsciously) he notes it and begins to try and adjust to keep me safe. This of course makes him more anxious. My anxiety is triggered a lot of times due to my empathy. I tend to feel (in some folks opinion) too strongly for total strangers. As we were driving along the main street of town, there was a parked car ahead of us that had what looked roughly like a two year old little boy leaning out the open window on the traffic side, watching it go by. The mother in me immediately began to panic seeing him leaning dangerously far out of the window. My hubby picking up on my panic, became even more cautious as we approached the car. The child was laughing and smiling, and he leaned back in as we drove by. I looked over to see if his parents or whoever was watching him had a good hold on him, and realized that there was no one else in the car. I closed my eyes in absolute terror as my mind began giving me very graphic images of what could possibly happen to the child. My husband noted my increased panic, but did not know what caused it so assumed that it was just the child leaning out of the window in proximity to our car that had me panicked and got us past it a little quicker. I couldn't explain until we were a long way past the car, and then my hubby got really angry at the missing parents. Sadly our anxiety prevented us from going back to make sure the child was safe. Mine due to not wanting to turn back and see any of the horrible things that my imagination was conjuring actually happen, and my hubby due to not being able to handle trying to adjust his mental list to suddenly include trying to find somewhere to turn around, park, and go back to check on the child only to have someone think he was trying to kidnap him. So, both of us were already trying to deal with panic at this point. Our friend in the back seat, was blissfully unaware of what was going on and was happily enjoying the ride. Now I was not only rattled by this incident, but was also feeling guilty for not going back to make sure that someone elses child was okay. My brain was screaming at me to not get involved, and also screaming at me, that if anything happened to the child it would be all my fault for not going back and making sure he was safe. My husband had also noted at this point that due to the bright sunny day, more people seemed to be driving like idiots than normal. People switching lanes without turn signals, cutting dangerously close to other cars while cutting them off. That sort of thing. Someone (who was not in a turn lane) even took an illegal left turn against the light cutting someone off who was actually turning left from the turn lane. So my hubby was being extra careful with his defensive driving. We managed to make it through nearly all of the errands that our friend needed to run, so it was now approaching his favorite part of the trip. Sharing a good meal with us. We only had one more stop to make and then it was off to a restaurant we had already picked out ahead of time. We made our last stop, without incident, but I was so hot and tired at this point from sitting in the car while they ran into the different shops, that I had lost any appetite that I'd had. I'd had a minor panic attack in one of the stores early on due to asking to spend some money on a video game and then finding out that it would be $5 more expensive than I originally thought. We don't have a lot of money, so if I feel like we are spending too much on something frivolous that I asked for, it makes me panic. I actually wound up running out of the game store to hide in the car when I realized that the game I thought was only going to be $15, was actually going to cost $20. That may not seem like a lot of money to most folks, but since I don't have a job, every little bit that I ask to be spent feels like I'm taking food out of our mouths. My hubby on the other hand feels that if it helps to keep us sane, it's a worthwhile expenditure. So I couldn't go into any of the other stores, and there was never any shade to park in. Even with the windows open, it was hot as heck. Finally it got to the meal segment of our day. We had picked a place that we had enjoyed eating at the last time we were in town, so we knew where we were going and we all knew basically what we wanted. Since I had no appetite I told my husband that I would just be ordering my meal to go. My thought was that once I was home, cooled off, and felt safe again, I would get my appetite back and be able to enjoy the meal. Sadly for my hubby, that meant a disruption of his plans because he knew that our friend would feel bad if I couldn't eat while they were eating. I tried to explain that I would just sketch while they were eating and there wouldn't be a problem, but he was already trying to figure out how to deal with this disruption, his brain had already kicked into overdrive trying to figure out how to keep our friend happy, while decreasing his stress as much as possible. We were also getting into the area where the restaurant was, and it's always crowded in that area due to it being the main avenue where college students stopped for lunch. Traffic always got really bad due to all of the pedestrians, the college students that drove like idiots, and the meter cops who drive slowly along checking for expired parking meters, etc. We actually noticed a meter cop pull up behind a parked car, get out and begin walking along checking the meters as we were looking for a place to park. My hubby actually managed to find a free two hour parking spot mildly in the shade. As we were getting out, we saw the meter cop move up to an expired meter and begin writing up a ticket. My hubby laughed and said, "I bet that someone didn't bother feeding the meter because they figured they would just be in and out quick with a 'to-go' order." Sure enough, as we were walking to our designated eating establishment, someone ran out of one of the other restaurants with a to-go box in hand and began trying to wave down the meter cop and get her to take back the ticket. We all just shook our heads, you don't argue with a meter cop, once the ticket is printed it's done. So if you screw up like that you should just accept that you screwed up and deal with it. Sadly this guy was being a douche and continued to argue with her as we made it to our restaurant and discovered that it was not open, and wouldn't be open again for nearly a month. So here we were with our hearts and minds set on this, and it wasn't available. My hubby had to once again try to resort his mental list. Once again, I tried to help by giving a suggestion but he was already in a state of panic due to my earlier disruption, and now this. When he is panicking, too many options only serve to overwhelm him. So here we are, all hot, tired, disappointed, mildly panicky and him trying to figure out what to do while his brain is starting to hit overload while trying to keep track of everything else going on. So we head back to the car and start to head out of the area. The guy with the ticket has once again flagged down the meter cop and is standing in the middle of the road arguing with her. My hubby gets to the intersection in preparation for turning, while trying to figure out what to do next. As he starts to pull out to make his turn a guy on a bicycle goes shooting through the intersection in front of him like a bat out of hell, causing my mate to slam on his breaks. This rattles him enough that he decides to back up, not realizing that the meter cop has finished with the angry guy and is now right behind us. His brain in complete fight or flight mode had her still arguing with the guy a ways back. So he's unaware that she's right there in her little golf cart type meter car until she hits her horn, but it's already too late, his back fender already hit her front bumper. His foot once again hits the brakes, and he jumps out to check on the meter cop to make sure that she's alright as our hearts sink. He glances at me guiltily and whispers that he doesn't have any insurance on the car. "I know." I said as my head was sinking down to my chest, my eyes were already closed trying to fight tears of frustration, panic, and guilt of my own. Our friend in the back seat didn't even realize that it was the meter cop that we'd hit until my husband was standing in the street between the two cars looking for the damage. As he'd gotten out of the car, some stoned a-hole sitting outside of another restaurant yells out, "You're our hero!" at my hubby who is checking to make sure the meter cop is okay and that the damage isn't too bad. I'm already crying and shaking due to heat, stress, and guilt, knowing that this is going to be expensive. Our friend is trying to reassure me, so I tell him about our lack of insurance. He once again tries to reassure me stating that he will try and help us cover the expense, which just kicks my guilt in the teeth even more. The meter cop tells my hubby to pull off to the side, as she has to call in to find out what to do about the situation. So he moves the car off and parks to the side with her pulled off to the side behind us as we have to wait for a sheriff to arrive. All the while, my mate and I are trying to fight to hide the panic due to having to deal with authority figures, fear of him losing his license, and fear of having another huge bill on top of everything else. But like the guy with the ticket, we know that we have to swallow our pride and our terror and just deal with it as best we can. I wound up getting out of the car and asking the meter cop if we could move someplace else due to the heat and fear of heat stroke on my part. I guess I looked pretty bad as she went into helper mode, even though she couldn't let us move the car. She suggested that I maybe go into one of the restaurants and get some water. I explained about my anxiety disorder and being unable to handle going inside so she just had me sit down in the shade at an outdoor eating area and gave me the unopened jug of water that she kept in her cart and told me I could keep it. My mate was being very protective of me at this point and doing his best to help me to stay calm, but I can't control my tears or shaking. Another officer showed up to look over the vehicles as a witness because the meter cop couldn't get a hold of a sheriff. They both decided that there was no actual damage to either vehicle and the other officer called it in trying to get a hold of someone higher up to see what should be done. It was determined that no ticket was necessary due to the lack of damage, the state that I was in, and how helpful and honest my husband was being. After taking down his drivers license number, and giving him their cards, we were allowed to go on our way. Still shaking rather badly, we all loaded back into the car to get out of there. As we were leaving, the stoned guy got up and started yelling at the officers about police harassment. One of his friends got up and covered his mouth with his hand and told him to shut up and they started getting into a fight. We decided that food was right off the table for all of us and we just wanted to go home. The rest of the trip was spent in mostly silence as I did my best to calm my shattered nerves. My mate did his best to come down from the overload, and our friend did his best to be supportive. I won't lie, we got lucky. We were in the wrong, and if there had been any actual damage, that could have gone all kinds of bad for us. My mind kept whispering about all of the things that we would be dealing with if they had asked to see his proof of insurance, my husband could have lost his license, or we could have been saddled with a huge ticket that we couldn't pay. We would have had to either ask our friend, who only earns minimum wage, for financial help, or we would have had to turn to my husband's parents to bail us out... again. His mom already gives us money to pay our rent and bills, which we feel horrible about. We are in our late 40's near 50's and we have to rely on others to pay our way because we are too broken to be able to take care of ourselves financially. The rest of the evening was spent with me in the bedroom, playing a video game that I felt guilty even asking for, while my husband sat in the living room playing a game on his tablet until his sleep medication kicked in enough for him to be able to go to bed. I was about to turn in myself around 2:30 in the morning when I suddenly realized that I had only had one meal that day, and that my mate, (who's also diabetic) most likely didn't eat anything. So I got up, forced myself to have a quick microwavable meal and turned in. This morning, I sent my husband back into a massive panic attack by asking him to get insurance on the car. So yeah... dealing with that.

#anxiety #panic #panic attack #anxiety disorder #depression #clinical depression #anxiety and depression #traffic #accident #traffic accident

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goddessnemain · 7 years ago

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The High High High, The Soul-crushing Low

Both one of the best things to happen to me recently and one of the worst things to happen to me recently happened all in the last hour.

Last week I met my new neighbors. They’re really nice, easy to get along with, the husbands a toker, I’m psyched to finally have good neighbors again. Their son, who’s identical to the above, is my other new neighbor. This could be fun.

Last week I met my new neighbors. They like my dog, they don’t complain about my music, the husband is a toker who likes to share. See why I’m psyched about the new neighbors?

Yesterday, I spotted a social media post the wife had posted looking for help at a local musical dine-in theatre.

Today, the wife walked out of the house to put their dog out as I was getting out of my truck, so I wandered over there, flip-flops, a tank top talking about not chasing after men but if he’s got tattoos I might powerwalk, carrying a ratty laptop bag, and asked her if she was still looking for help.

She listed the 4 positions she needed to fill.

I’m not a bartender. I should be.

So I took one of the other 3 remaining positions.

When she went into the house to look at a schedule for a start date, she came back out 45 seconds later and says to come on in the house for a toke.

She gave me my start date, payday days, dress code, and shift options all while I toked with her hubby and he talked about their puppy.

On my way out the door, the wife happily said she would bring home a hiring package for me tomorrow.

I floated across the street with my head spinning trying to figure out if that really just happened or had I finally lost my mind. I was so excited I was ready to burst.

I had to tell somebody!

That’s when I crashed.

It hit me like a brick wall when I quickly realized I don’t have anyone to call. I didn’t have anyone who will let me tell them my really great news, be happy for me about my really great news, I mean actually happy, not fake happy, and be excited with me. My excited, elated high came crashing down and I stood in my kitchen with tears running down my face, having an anxiety attack. I couldn’t catch my breath. I stood there crying, hyperventilating for a good 5 minutes before I slowly started to get myself under control. 20 minutes after I started to crash, I was mostly back under control, but I was also exhausted.

I thought I could call my cousin. She drives me crazy, but I thought maybe she would be happy for me. Maybe I could tell her my good news, maybe without having to listen to her trivial crap, and I do mean trivial- 15 minutes about a guy who just pulled in her driveway looking for his dog and was he actually looking for his dog or is he a maniac- trivial. How tired her kids were.

40 minutes into a phone ‘conversation’ and my cousin hasn’t asked how my day was. Now she’s singing some Diplo (I think that’s who the guy is) song going I’ll know it even though I’ve told her 4 times that I don’t. After 47 minutes she hung up with a my daughters ‘rocking out, I’m going to go crank some music and watch her, talk to you later’ *click*

The other person I thought to call, I text first, to see if they were busy. When they replied ‘little bit, why?’ I immediately replied ‘not important, thanks!’. I didn’t want to inconvenience them.

An hour later- 47 minutes on the phone, and 3 text messages later- I haven’t told anyone my really great news.

I understand that other people have a lot going on too. I’m not being ignorant of that fact. But if you knew me, you would know I give my last 20 bucks to women at gas stations who tell convincing stories about trying to flee abuse who turn out to actually live a block over from the gas station and tells this story frequently to solicit money from people. You’d also know I would give my last 20 bucks to any woman with the same story at a gas station who looked like she needed help regardless of how many times I got scammed. I stay up 38 hours straight so I can keep my friend awake a full 24 hours, drive 90 minutes to the city, fight with early morning traffic because she needs to have a sleep deprived study done to map her seizure activity. She sleeps while I drive home. I’m the ‘drop my plans last minute because a friend needs a babysitter’, The ‘alright I suppose this is what we’re doing even though I don’t want to but will because she had a bad day’, The ‘of course I’ll take care of your cats even though they attack me, you never clean their litter box and I have to do it, can’t breathe in your house it smells so bad’ person. I pay for seniors groceries, I buy coffee for the people behind me in the drive-through. I left dozens of those ridiculous fidget spinners at stores all over town last summer. I’d buy them and leave them with the store for kids who come in looking for them but don’t have the money to get one. I’ll help pretty much anyone. I’ve taken in kids for weeks, sometimes months at a time because their parents refused to let them live at home or to take care of them. I’ll give you a second chance. A third. Maybe a fourth. In some cases a tenth, a twentieth. I wear my heart on my sleeve, and I get taken advantage of. A lot. A lot is an understatement. More frequently than I care to admit. It’s a problem. I’m endlessly searching for the humanity in humans, I’m too trusting, I have too much empathy, I want to find the good in someone even when there’s none to be found. I’ve gone to extremes in my loyalty to people who really matter to me, even though they don’t deserve my loyalty or respect.

1 1/2 hours later, I’ve told someone, the same someone I stayed up 38 hours, drove sleep deprived for. Their response? ‘Sweet’, followed 5 minutes later with a ‘this new guy I met is coming over to drink wine, do you have wine glasses I can borrow?’, followed by a ‘never mind someone else brought me some’. Followed a bit later by ‘when do you start?’. When they found out my start date was also their birthday, I got a ‘so you're not going to be around for my B-day then. Well, that sucks’. When I assured them that I would only be gone during the day and still be able to participate in their birthday activities in the evening- which really just consist of sitting in a local bar and drinking- that wasn’t good enough. I haven’t heard from them since.

If you knew me, you would know I’ll spend 38+ hours keeping you awake because you’re my friend, you need help, and you asked. You would know I would say ‘yes, absolutely’. You would know about my blood disorder, not actually remember it though, and be unaware that I’ll suffer for days afterward, because I’ll put on a smiling face and ‘sure, I’ll give you a ride to the store’ later that same day, or the next day.

I’m not excited for myself anymore.

Now I think the entire thing is a terrible idea, and that I should walk across the street, apologize, and tell the very nice lady that this has all been a giant mistake, and I’m very very sorry. It’s been 105 minutes, she can’t have turned down that many people.

My friends don’t deserve me

#what happened to humanity #empathy #we need to be better people #save humanity #save decency #people suck #second chances #third chances #twentieth chances #no one cares #frustrating #hurtful #i dont like it when i cry #panic attack

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artisticvicu · 4 years ago

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Altruistic Endeavors | Inktober 2020 - Day 20: Coral

Everything was heavy and he hated the fact that he was waking up. It took a moment before he realized that he couldn’t remember taking whatever the healer had wanted to give him, let alone actually falling under its sedation. At least his head didn’t hurt and his thoughts seemed rather clear compared to the last time he had done this.

There was something on the edge of his hearing that he didn’t quite understand until the voices became discernible. It took the words a bit longer to make sense.

“...seen him that shaken before.” Elias’s voice was low, rough, but he took comfort in the fact that they had done their best to keep their promise to him.

A voice he didn’t recognize drifted through the room. “You asked him what had happened, then?”

Elias snorted. “Of course I asked. Sheer curiosity would have driven me to ask had my duty not.” There was a heavy pause. “I’m going to write up a report but I don’t think I can repeat what he had told me. If you want the story, you’ll have to ask him or Artemis.”

“Do you think he remembers?”

Elias sighed. “I’m not sure. I never verified if there had been any memory loss the last time he had sustained a similar injury but a whole hour?” There was the sound of fabric shifting. “The healer’s not even sure if the two injuries can be compared at this point so we’re going into this blind.”

“If he doesn’t, is Torra-”

“Shhhh.” Silence fell at Elias’s command. A part of him that didn’t dare breathe. “Do you hear that?”

The silence stretched through the room. There was a spark to it, a touch of adrenaline as those in the room waited for whatever Elias had heard to get clearer. A noise started to leak through the door and very quickly it started to sound like shouting.

“What’s going on out there?” Elias questioned. There was the sound of footfall against the floor as the shouting started to sound oddly familiar. He opened his eyes in time to watch Elias open the door.

“-my brother right now or so help me-”

“Bethany?” Elias inquired, sounding skeptical.

Artemis was skeptical. There was no way his older sister was there but as he pushed himself up, he could barely make out his sister around Elias. The woman Elias had been walking with got up from her chair and walked over to the side of the bed. She didn’t force him to lay back down but she did get him to lean back on some pillows as they both watched the confrontation between Elias and Bethany.

“YOU,” Bethany snarled. “Where’s Artemis. And don’t say you don’t have any idea. Lora called me in a panic almost four days ago now about some stranger having kidnapped Artemis and, lo and behold, I recognized the description of the man who had taken him.”

“Bethany, let me explain-”

“No! How bout you listen because, God damn it, Mom may have forgotten but I couldn’t. I still remember every little thing she deemed worthy to teach me and every little trick you had shown me. But when all of that changed after Artemis was born, I left this all behind and now I’m being forced to look back to get my brother out of here. You had no right bringing him here. Especially not like that.”

“He didn’t give me much choice-”

“Bullshit he-”

“He was attacked by a Kret!” Elias’s bellow made the silence that followed deafening. He watched the man’s chest expand with a breath that shook. “A strong one. Beth, if I hadn’t brought him here, he probably would have died from the mental damage it had dealt him. He slept through the last three days and only woke up because the medication the healers were giving him worked to keep him from going brain dead or suffering anything worse. So don’t tell me I was in the wrong bringing him here. Not when you won’t hear me out.”

“Elias?”

Tolnoran’s voice drifted in from down the hallway. Elias took a step into the hallway clearing Artemis’s line of sight to his sister. She looked fierce but he could make out the exhaustion at the edge of her pissed expression. “Tolnoran-” Elias started breathlessly.

“Is everything alright?” Tolnoran asked, voice a bit louder due to proximity alone.

“More or less.” Elias gestured to Artemis’s sister. “This is Bethany, Artemis’s older sister.”

“And his niece,” she added with a pointed glare at Elias. She turned a more neutral expression towards Tolnoran. “He’s our mom’s older brother but he doesn’t care much about being around family anymore.”

Elias let out a sharp breath. “I told you when I left that it was better that I didn’t associate with you or Artemis after-” The words stopped but Artemis - and clearly Bethany - knew exactly what he was referring to.

“So you just abandoned me to deal with everything that came our way on my own!” Bethany shot back, infuriated. “Dad never saw the damn things - couldn’t even feel them! - and there was no way Mom was going to be able to even know how to start helping him!”

“You were plenty strong enough-” he tried but she cut him off viciously.

“I was still a kid!”

“You were 14!”

“I was barely old enough to take care of myself, let alone try and protect my kid brother from things that still give me nightmares! I ran away from all of it as soon as I could because I couldn’t do it anymore! I couldn’t protect my little brother because you dropped that responsibility into my lap before I was ready and now you’re acting like you care now?!”

“Bethany-”

“No! I’m taking Artemis home, and that’s final!”

There was a faint ringing in his ears when silence fell in the room. The woman was still standing at his bedside but he didn’t care. He shifted to the edge of the bed, his movement drawing his sister and his uncle’s attention. Both spoke his name, though Bethany’s was far more frantic than relieved. She closed the distance between them faster than Elias and Artemis wasn’t sure he was happy to see her or simply confused.

He went with the confused while it was there. “Why are you here?”

Bethany pulled back, hands gently gripping his shoulders. “I’m taking you home. Lora called me in a fit when you were kidnapped.”

He shook his head. “No. In the Second Plane. You know how to get here?”

Confusion bled into her expression. “Of course I do. Otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”

“So you’re a Walker, then?”

A dark look pushed the confusion out before she managed a neutral expression. “Was a Walker. I gave that lifestyle up a long time ago and you’ll be able to do the same. Whatever he’s told you-” she sent Elias a glare- “has been lies.”

“Now see here, miss,” Tolnoran started, now in the doorway. Elias put his arm out, stopping the other man.

“Beth,” Elias spoke up, voice soft. “Where’s your Jaun? Toll-something, right?”

Bethany’s entire demeanor turned to ice. “Touley.” She turned a hard glare onto Elias. “And they’ve been dead for years. Died protecting my brother somewhere around the two year mark.”

Pain laced through Elias’s expression. “I’m so sorry.”

“Are you?” she challenged. “Do you know the pain a Walker feels when their bond is broken like that? I thought I was dying when their core was crushed between teeth. Probably would have if Artemis’s Dlmor hadn’t finally stepped in.”

“I distinctly remember being told to go handle the little guys while you took care of the large one, Walker,” Dlmor remarked, voice drifting up from under the bed and startling him. Bethany and the others seemed to already know Dlmor had been there.

It may have been years since he had seen his sister but she still had the same signs as their mom and dad when getting riled up. He stepped closer to her, drawing her attention away from Dlmor. “You knew this entire time? Of what I was? What Mom did?”

Several emotions flickered across her face and he caught the flicker of regret and anger. “Of course I knew. I was 14, old enough to be bonded, old enough to know. She didn’t tell me her plan, though.” She turned a glare to Elias but standing that close allowed Artemis to see the hurt that was under the anger. “She just up and didn’t remember any of it one day. Couldn’t even see Toley. Broke their heart when she didn’t even respond to them.”

Elias shook his head. “I couldn’t convince her to not go through with it.” He opened his arms wide, expression closed off. “I never want anyone to become what I am.”

Annoyance flittered across her face. “Yeah, well. Look at where that’s gotten us.”

“You had a Jaun?” he asked, wondering if his attempt to change the subject was too obvious or would be fought.

Bethany smiled weakly at him. “Yeah. You liked Toley. You could see them for the first few months before the pact fully settled. They had coral colored fur and you had taken to anything coral colored when you weren’t able to see Toley anymore. I managed to convince Mom and Dad to let me buy you a stuffed monkey in the color. You wouldn’t do anything without it.” A slight frown pulled at her lips as her expression turned thoughtful. “I’m not sure what happened to that stuffed monkey. I hated it after Toley was taken and I left a few years after anyways.”

“I don’t remember it,” he offered honestly. “Sorry.”

She smiled at him again. “It’s alright.” She gestured towards the door where Elias and Tolnoran were still standing. Elias looked defeated with Tolnoran’s hands on either shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go home.”

He couldn’t get Elias’s gaze so he met his sister’s instead. “I want to stay.”

Bethany rolled her eyes. “You can’t be serious. Artemis, this is nothing more than a bunch of people playing war. Let’s go and get you out of this nonsense.”

He shook his head, taking a step back towards the bed. “No. I can’t leave yet. You didn’t see what I saw yesterday, what I fought yesterday.”

Her face paled even as her rising anger colored her cheeks. “You’ve got to be joking. You’re joking, right?”

“Why would I joke about that?” he asked, genuinely confused by her comment. “Bethany, I went up against a…” The word - like Dlmor or Jaun - wouldn’t form right on his tongue so he translated it… “against an Echo, a shadow being that no one else could see until we brought it to light.”

“Are you sure?” Elias spoke up, weight shifting as if he wanted to step towards them. “There were plenty of accounts from the soldiers and Tolnoran saw it.”

“Very clearly,” the large man confirmed, shuddering.

He shook his head, adamant. “But not before we collided with it. Ask the medical staff. They’ll tell you there was nothing there until I was already leaping over the person it had attached to.”

“I can go do that.” He looked over his shoulder at the stranger he had forgotten about. Her expression was curious but there was a seriousness to it that made her look fierce. “I’ve got a few things to ask them about all this anyways. Colonel wants to know how it got in in the first place.”

Elias nodded. “If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” The woman moved around the bed and came to a stop at his and Bethany’s side, offering her hand. “Seems right I introduce myself before I dip out. Lieutenant Colonel Cass, Second in Command to Colonel Albert Conner.”

Bethany shook her hand, demeanor shifting into a professional one that was probably a tad colder than needed. “Bethany Augustus, nee Lorncroft. Thank you for your assistance.”

“My pleasure,” the other woman assured her with a smirk before offering her hand to him.

He shook it politely. “Artemis Lorncroft. Pleasure to finally be acquainted.”

This pulled her smirk into a grin. “I hope my reputation precedes me well.”

He shrugged finding a small smile pulling at his lips. “Seeing as there has only been mention of you and high praise from Torra, I would hope it did with accuracy.”

She laughed at that. “I’ll take it.” She stepped back and gave them both a nod. “Hopefully I will be able to see you both off. If not, have a good rest of your day.”

#All the Creation #Creative and Prompt Writing #Inktober 2020 #Day 20 #Altruistic Endeavors

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elevenhoursinfront-blog · 7 years ago

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30th October 2017

I heard Steve’s alarm, but I didn’t hear him getting up or getting ready. He text me to say that he was shattered and couldn’t wait to go to bed. He must’ve got 4 hours sleep, if that. Now he’ll be doing a 12 hour shift bless him. Hopefully he’s not inside and he’s outside. The room work is so boring, you cannot stop yourself from yawning 24/7. I had to ring UPS because they were meant to pick my GoPro up on Friday and nobody turned up. I couldn’t ring them over the weekend because they only operate Monday-Friday which is typical. I was fuming Friday. They told me they needed to send me another label to put on the box otherwise they couldn’t collect it… How ridiculous. I told them that I need this to be sent to Hong Kong, fixed and returned by November 17th and he was the most unsympathetic person I’ve ever spoken too. They’re so rude. UPS is American, isn’t it? I realised after my phone call that I couldn’t open my eyes very much. I looked in the mirror and they were swollen as anything. This usually happens when I cry too much and I look like I’ve been stung by 10,000 bees. I cried at the film last night but it must be a mixture of that and tiredness. I was woken up today but Arnold, an Aussie that lives next door. He was playing stupid rock music really loud. He’s the sort of person to turn it up should you ask him to be a bit quieter. I had a bad stomach ache for most of the day but I got on with what needed doing, washing and tidying up etc. The usual things. I don’t understand how our room gets so messy when it is literally enough space for a bed and a fridge. Steve was working in the Yard today which was good. He was basically doing things he would have done at Travis Perkins. He said a massive argument broke out and a girl started crying. It’s coming up to Christmas so there’s orders coming out of their ears. The stress levels are high as anything. Steve told the girl that was crying that he could drive the forklift, if she needed. Taylor hates driving the forklift. She got so happy and ran to tell Mick that Steve could. Usually, to drive a forklift here, you need a ‘ticket’ to say that you can. Basically, a test and certificate. Mick said that if Steve got a photo of his completion from Travis, he could use the forklift. He’s not going to bother asking, as we’re only here for 3 weeks. Steve also thinks that Travis Perkins forklift license is for them and them only, which is a shame. Work was really, really quiet thankfully. Steve finished at 1700 so a 12 hour day in the bag for him. He come down to Seaview to see me around 2000. We stood there chatting for a good 20 minutes which was nice. It’s the only time I actually see him. He was getting chicken chips and a dare for the morning. Dare’s are a chocolate coffee milkshake. They’re one of the most popular drinks here in Australia and the reason is that it has twice the amount of caffeine in than your average cup of coffee… I’d have a heart attack if I had one. Chris cut her finger yesterday at work, quite bad. The blood just poured everywhere, for ages. We got some plasters and antiseptic wipes. There wasn’t much in the first aid box to work with. She came in today and said that she had to have stitches which is awful. She said that it didn’t stop bleeding all night so she went to the chemist who made her go to the GP who gave her a stitch. It was just the one but they aren’t disposable. She said she felt everything which made me feel sick. I asked to look at the photo. I’m absolutely covered in bruises and burns from work, Steve wonders whether I’ve been beaten up half the time. I currently have a massive bruise on my leg from walking into a drinks crate in the fridge. It’s a long line of bruise, the size/length of your middle finger. I was working with Jess before she finished at 1900. She seemed really down. In fact, the whole morale at work was low. It was a cloudy, boring day so I put it down to that. I asked Jess if she was okay and she said 'no’. She said that her Mum rang her to say that her Grandpa is going to be passing soon. He suffers with leukemia cancer and it’s time. The doctors can’t give a time frame exactly which is why she’s so confused as what to do. She and Franzi have tickets booked home for 5 weeks time. She has 3 weeks left here in Cardwell and then they fly to Bali for a 2 week holiday. They have a friend called Steph that’s meeting them there. Their flights and what not are already booked. She doesn’t know whether to wait and risk him passing before she gets home, or go home now and risk him not passing and knowing that she wasted all that money, thousands of dollars. I know which one I’d pick - family over anything, everyday. Steve said the same. She will pick the same, but it’s not just her she has to think about. Franzi said that she will do whatever Jess does, they’ve been friends for 10 years so that’ll be on her shoulders. Steph will now be in Bali on her own also. Her Grandpa rings her to tell her not to come back. What an awful, awful situation to be in. I finished work at 2300. I definitely made the right choice by quitting the Seafarm. I work 7 days as it is here at Seaview, I get more money per hour. Jess and Franzi will most likely have to leave soon too so I will be the only person working there… It started to thunder and rain just as I was leaving to walk home from work which is just typical. I FaceTimed my Dad who was round the In-Laws (Nan and Gramps). He was having a sausage sandwich. I got home, showered and had the rest of Steve’s chicken chips that he couldn’t eat, because he ordered 2 bags, because his eyes are bigger than his belly… Standard Steven! I got into bed and watched a film before going to sleep, around 0130.

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cyberleaf69 · 6 years ago

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TWO OLD STAGEHANDS REMINISCING

I bought a new device this morning(Black Friday), disrupting my savings to the tune of $278.19; this was NOT a doorbuster bargain, but was their least expensive 'laptop.' This purchase has relieved me of the burden of Google Chrome & brought back Cortana("Hey!"); also I have the use of my WiFi, and can stay in touch with the Amell family(up in those woods). When I ventured out this AM, it was about fifty degrees out; I got a biscut-breakfast at Hardee's, before negotiating my holiday purchase; after bringing my prize back to the room, I sped off to get 4 packs of cig's and some(6 for $1) donut sticks. Hurricane Michael has managed to permanently close down my Harvey's, so it's Family Dollar, Dollar General & Dollar Tree for now; this has increased expenses significantly, while reducing overall quality & variety. I'm sure to think of something else to write about, but for now, I'm sending this along.

Outstanding! Glad to hear from you. I had another episode with another blocked artery. I'm up to three stents now. This happened right after Michael blew through, so I'd been wondering how you were doing. This news is tonic for me.

sorry; I was checking out alternative forms of identification; not sure if this is tonic(because I'm tone-deaf), but I'll dash off something for a three-stenter; keep this up and you'll be setting off metal detectors at airports and courthouses; when you say 'episode' you should elaborate, even if you have to make the shit up; making shit up has become quite presidential lately RE:Hurricane Michael - about 7 PM, my power went out; luckily, between 5 & 6 PM next afternoon, it was restored I opened my drapes for lighting, and sat facing the window until around 12:30 AM, when the worst of it had passed that bitch was loud, and at one point, while still approaching from SW, one sheet of steel roofing blew off our U-shaped building; a shower of sparks as it blew across the parking lot got my full attention did you purchase a copy of "Whose Boat Is This Boat?" it took 30 min's to get this far... updates and such[speaks to the age of the model I was sold @STAPLES] cheese grits on the breakfast menu, but first I'll be needing a shower

Of course we didn't catch the full fury of the storm, but we got plenty of rain and wind, I have several washed out sections of driveway I need to attend to, it's a rough ride down into the valley here. In regards to my ongoing heart troubles, in 2011 I had a blockage of the left anterior descending artery, that was causing great pressure in my chest, felt like an elephant was sitting on me, no heart attack with that event, but the docs implanted my first stent. The heart attack this past April was brought on by blockage of the right coronary artery, I aggravated my heart by over-exerting myself digging my dogs grave. That event was marked by rapid heartbeat, dizziness, sweating, confusion, and pressure radiating out from the left side of my chest. That blockage was remedied by stent number two. The latest episode at the end of October was preceded by a week or so of pressure and mild discomfort in my chest that was remedied by taking a dose of nitro-glycerin. I awoke with that pressure, took a dose, didn't get any relief, I alerted Debbie, took another dose, but by then I was having difficulty breathing and having strong chest pain, Deb called 911 and gave me a third dose of nitro, at that time I was hyperventilating uncontrollably, sweating profusely, and the pain was very intense...I was sure I was about to die. The EMTs arrived, got me in the ambulance, took my blood pressure, and an EKG, drew some blood, analyzed that with the fancy computer analyzer and came back with "Everything looks fine, you don't appear to be having a heart attack." I got to the hospital, had a quiet morning and afternoon, save for the drawing of blood and the checking of blood pressure. Later that night though, I had six more non-heart-attacks. I won't go into all the drama wrapped around that due to my vitals all showing good normal indications. Anyway, I got my third stent early that next morning, after being catheterized and they found another blockage in the right coronary artery that was downstream of the second stent. Phillip, during those six non-heart-attacks I was truly sure I was going to meet the creator. I had told Debbie all those things you tell someone when you think you're dying. But apparently I've either got unfinished business or I'm just getting some extra time here on earth due to my exceedingly good looks, wit, and charm. ;)

good looks, wit & charm aside, since you have unloaded onto DEB all those last minute appurtenances, you should think about what must be/should be said about your time together since recovering from those six downstream pain events[& consider the high dose of TNT necessary for that most recent download]

We're getting ready for our Thanksgiving tomorrow. Lots of cleaning and such. I'll be in and out all day. Got yard-work to do now that the rain has passed. I have a fire going to save electricity, and the added benefit of warm glowing light is helpful. I've got to go buy a used bass guitar in a little while. I'm snagging parts off of it to make a cigar box bass guitar for Patti (Tuck) Tuckwiler's brother's Christmas gift. I'd already had my oatmeal & blueberries along with a patty of turkey sausage and a slice of toast. I let this guy named Possum hunt on our property, he gave me a slab of backstrap as thanks for hunting privileges. I'm thinking about having a backstrap on a yeast roll for lunch.

shower complete backstrap a la antlered-buck, I'm assuming had some online interaction w/TUCK[doubt she will remember] will your son attend tomorrow's feed? you sound pretty busy, so I'll catch up w/U later

oversized notebook w/no disk player[complicating printer connection]

trak-pad offset too far to left of center[due to hard drive's location to the right of it]; I keep right-clicking when I want to left-click I'm running down my battery for the first time today[not sure whether these rechargeables benefit from 'training'] still 'customizing' my task bar/I can use my 'task view' to 'see' what's down there[and access w/a click] tomorrow will be a 'shopping day' as I'm out of grits limerick is kinda fun most forms are the kind of challenge a writer loves I once wrote a Petrarchian sonnet[back in high school]; it was a love-poem to my girlfriend; in order to fit her 2-syllable name into it, without breaking with meter requirements, I wrote it as G_____[just one syllable]; this came in handy later; I was able to recycle my metric sentiments for future girlfriends. https://www.booksie.com/sent-messages https://en.wikichip.org/w/index.php?title=User:Phillip_DeNise&action=submit

My youngest son works for a company that resolves gift/cash card issues. They're well moneyed, they pay their employees very well, and they feed them like royalty. The company had bought a Thanksgiving feast for 9 people. They spent $1700 on that meal, that was catered by Olive Garden. There was so much food left that all the employees got to take home...like...doggy bags for elephants. My son brought some of that bounty to share with us for our thanksgiving dinner. We also had plenty of food leftover, so much that we sent all the family members home with food for days, and we still have much left in the fridge. I'm having some fettucine alfredo, and yeast rolls for my late lunch. I'd been busy cleaning and straightening from the dinner. Also I'd bought a $50 bass to sacrifice for parts I need to build that cigar-box bass I'd mentioned that I'd disassembled before taking lunch. I'm trying to stay busy and keep moving. Whatever amount of life I have left, I want to use as much as I can, as wisely as I can. After I wrap up this message, I'm going to chop some wood and get a fire started for this evening. It's supposed to be in the low 30s tonight. Cheers! I hope that laptop ain't making you crazy.

fettucine alfredo is one of my all-time-favorites; 1st time I had it, my sis made it at home; she did it so well that I was forever hooked; add smoked chicken breast & sliced, fresh button mushrooms, and... well, Italian ambrosia; plain f.a. is the perfect side for veal marsala do you have to smoke all those cigars for authenticity? ...probably a good way to end up w/John Prine's voice check came yesterday; I'll go to Liquor Locker at 11[as it is usually sans-customers then; less chance of a robbery], to get my wad of ca$h then $625 to motel-boss, $60 + any cash from last mo. goes into savings hidey-hole, leaving about 3 Benjamins for necessities

All the cash that I have to my name is tied up in two guitars and a guitar amplifier. Got them all up on eBay, and Craig's list, hoping some aspiring young rock star has a need...soon. I'm living off the fat of thanksgiving today. Got that fire going, saving on heating bills, and trying to figure out how to get the most cash I can for the HHR. I've got about 1.75 years to go until I can take SS early retirement. I honestly don't know how I'll make it that long, barring a minor miracle or a random act of kindness, but somehow we've manged thus far, I have faith and hope for better days to come. As far as cigar box guitars go, we find the boxes online or at tobacco shops in the area. I haven't had a cigar or cigarette since April when I had the heart attack. I do find myself "wanting" quite often but have taken up gnawing a straw, gum, or a toothpick. The good news is that it's saving me between $10 - $20 a week that I don't have anyway. Yay. Anyhow, I'm going back out to work on the cigar box bass. Peace to you Phillip.

get some sax-reeds for your oral gratification-smoking abatement strategy; a cigar box will make an excellent homemade resonator for a sax-like sample to feed into your reactionary music what changes when you claim your partial & have significantly improved your survival-horizon in the interim?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8buJ2-oD02E https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KDqoTDM7tio https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f2-XU8jm02o where do the best stories come from? editors are famous for taking out the stuff that isn't needed; old men have a similar process occurring among the aging neurons in their noggins; this is giving them a new voice; problem is:if they show their wizened faces, nobody will listen to them; time to employ a mask... a truly vital issue that cannot be ignored Calories are units used to measure heat. Mammals maintain their body temperature by chemically converting starches and sugars back into H2O & CO2. When we burn hydrocarbon fuels, the heat production and the waste products are the same. Plants do just the opposite; they use the H2O & CO2 to store the heat energy in their starches and sugars. Down in Brunswick, there is a company called Hercules; when you pass by their manufacturing plant, you will see tree stumps piled high; they use the waste from lumbering operations to convert the cellulose into gunpowder. The lowly peanut vine, hosts on its root systems, colonies of bacteria[also plants] that 'fix' the nitrogen from the atmosphere, so that it is soluble[thus available to the vines for uptake through those roots]. Rotating to a planting of peanuts can quickly restore the depleted nutrients resulting from cotton or corn plantings. The lint caught up in the air circulating in a cotton mill can cause an explosion if rapidly oxidized. Corn silos can be dangerous concentrations of these plant-stored nitrates as well. As a child, I was the agent providing the fixed nitrogen, when I 'strowed sodie' about the roots in a plot of sweet corn. These crystals of explosive nitrates are chemically produced from nitrogen in the atmosphere. 'Scrubbing' the atmosphere of dangerous concentrations of CO2 can be done in a similar process. If the energy needed to trap the carbon can be 'captured' from sunlight, then the corn plants and explosive fertilizers can be dispensed with. If animal life forms are so much more intelligent than plants, then they should consider taking over all the terraforming functions that they mindlessly perform in their own self-interest. Terraforming distant Mars seems to depend heavily upon creating a breathable atmosphere there; what are our scientists doing about terraforming the Earth, where a kingdom of plant life forms could be better harnessed to accomplish our desired balance of CO2, O2 & N2? Climate change, probably in a warming phase, is increasing our atmospheric H2O; this will eventually reverse the warming trend. In the interim, it seems logical that there are locales on the planet which will benefit from the current trend; these are the places we should be colonizing. Diverting the hordes of humanity, that are fleeing the effects of climate change, into these mostly unsettled areas, not only solves the immigration problems of industrialized nations, but represents a tremendous business opportunity for expanding their struggling economies. These new colonies offer to the 'survivalists' among us, destinations where there is less government and enormous freedom to develop their ideas into social organizations that will promote their own desired political and economic change. No matter where they chose to go, they will still need shoes... need clean drinking water... shelters constructed from available materials[rammed earth domes are remarkably resilient] will immediately be needed; and what will they eat? Business solutions exist for almost every difficulty that such a growing society must soon encounter; why continue looking to charitable organizations and over-burdened governments for the answers?

Everyone now has the capability of being able to hide behind a digital mask on them damn interwebs. Here we have the vastness of mankind's accumulation of knowledge, and people choose to watch cat videos on facebook. There's really not much hope for people in my best estimation, masks or not. I understand why there needs to be a revolution of the mind, heart, and soul. I understand that I'm not the only one that sees this, and I'm glad I'm not alone. One of the problems we face today is the blessing/curse of the internet. People aren't using it so much as a learning tool, but rather as a distraction from all the folly of the times. That said, I'm going off to work on a box.

time actually flies when we are having so much fun; my cheese grits are already at stage one[awaiting the time when I shove the green plastic bowl into the nuke-o-wave, while those frags of kernal-corn soak/soften in cold water], I'm fully dressed & the bed is made; the TV is on & I'm halfway through my first cup of joe and my first cigarette[which I have stubbed out and noticed that the first half was the most generous one]; a great noise is being raised outside my place[some sort of gas-powered welding machine], so staying in bed would not have been a workable alternative; it's rainy out, which is a meteorological condition that could remain in place for three days; I saw that coming, so I visited my nearest Family Dollar yesterday, when it was seventy-two degrees and sunny GATOR used to be right here "gator takes a ride" is my visual offering for today; not sure why the hands call him gator, but getting sent up to the loading bridge is probably a status indicator; I spent a lot of load-in's & load-out's watching and listening from high above the groundlings; I was also rewarded with a department head's position on a national tour for having filed an NLRB charge; that got me to thinking IATSE Local 41 is still on display in cyberspace; do you ever go there? That is where I snatched this image for my ACER. I snuck in using a private browser & made off with my prize. "behindthemain" reminds me of something my Dad used to say; "Once you back your ass up to the teaser, you'll never be able to go back." The age of Rock 'n' Roll was the greatest AGE because they wrote songs about US! How cool is that? What is totally uncool is my mail.com, which has just refused to send this draft until I remove my stolen image; so just imagine a close-up of a stuffed gator-doll perched on an arbor loaded with counterweight which was originally posted by some dude called @behindthemain

Time, at least for me, has become compressed. Three days, maybe a week will go by in the blink of an eye, and there's really not much I can do to slow the procession. The best thing I've found that I can do is create, fabricate, manufacture, and repair. Just trying to stay, to keep from spending too much time in my head. Now there's a dark place. I wouldn't send anyone to spend any time there. One problem is that of psychic transmission on my part. Bad enough I should have to spend time there in my mind, but I was also gifted with the ability to broadcast my thoughts, so, certain lucky "receivers" get to share the "Matt experience". I generally know who's getting that broadcast because they either don't know me but they're able to complete my sentences, or I'll be thinking of or about a person that I know, and they will call me on the phone. If the case is the former, those people tend to try to stay away from me. I'm thinking they can't handle the stream. If you're in the latter group, we're connected. Probably always have been. Determining which thoughts are your own, and those that come beaming in seemingly out of nowhere is the catch to all that. Thoughts??? P.S. I don't consider myself a receiver, but maybe I just can't sort my thoughts from the thoughts of others... Herman Hill passed away a few days ago. He was a receiver of my thoughts. I bet it was confusing for him to be in proximity of me.

intelligence originating from without, as you should already realize, is sorta my thing if I have connected with your interior spaces in the past, I must assume that it did not seem so dark to me I would remember being put off in such a manner

Deb & I have been buying, selling, and trading electric guitars, and amps. Unofficially we are Pocataligo Guitar Exchange. I also do minor repairs to electric guitars & basses. We've flipped 4 Squire Bullet Strats, an ESP - LTD EXP200 Explorer copy, and a DeArmond M65C Les Paul Studio copy, as well as a Peavey Mark III Citation bass amp head, and a Peavey Citation Mark IV guitar amp head. The fun thing about this is that we get to try all kinds of gear that we wouldn't ordinarily get to play with. :)

now you will be needing a PGE logo; some consideration should be given to the silk screening process, when you select a design; the reason for this being cheaper T-shirts and complete PGE control over their manufacture & distribution; just sayin'

1st things first - incorporate as an.LLC. Get a bi'ness license. Then we'll get around to tee shirts and what have you. This will also be the outlet for any cigar box creations.

LLC's are pure crap; there are many ways to protect your #1 asset[your residence] from liabilities you may not see coming, while operating this[any] business at your residence; you can pledge the equity in a residential property as collateral for a small business loan, while your LLC could not; of course your CFO[DEB] would need to chime in on such risky decisions[but risk is what living is all about; security a delusion] got up early[9:03] as per usual on Sunday, in order to catch Jane Pauley on CBS; NOT! there is a tornadic fear monger down in Tallahassee pre-empting the network broadcast to tell me that I need to get in my safe place; all last night there were alerts interrupting my TV-viewing; this 'storm' is indeed unusual for December, with lightning & thunder[started hearing rumbles about 8 PM while watching "Rampage"]; there have been accumulations down here between 2 & 3 inches, but no real cause for flash flood warnings[every 5 to 7 minutes]; added to that sort of aggravation, I'm now an expert in the minutiae of George Herbert Walker's 94-year-long public life[best part is watching secret service guys puking up their guts while an 85-year-old maniac races his speedboat around Kennebunkport's rocky shoals]; if TRUMP died suddenly, we'd really be consigned to TV-hell; so, those warnings expire and they start six minutes of backlogged commercials; sheesh!

Cocoa Beach secret stagehand local?

Titusville; Dad had a friend down there; entire membership of this four-digit film unit was featured on the cover of IA Bulletin

One of the reasons we ditched Atlanta and moved out here was the abundance of nature out here. Ample wildlife, some wild berries and muscadines to be had in good years, plenty of breathing space, no bumping elbows with neighbors. Deb took this picture about 10 minutes ago...

when I go hunting for muscadines, I take along a paper sack; I collect a few in my sack & leave them on that 'shelf' below the rear-window of the jalopy; now the car is infused with the most wonderful odor[perhaps for weeks to come]

It's beautiful, mild and partly cloudy today. I may get out and try to find a good sized deer to take down for our winter meat needs. Possum put up a deer stand that's fully enclosed, about 10 feet above ground that I may go sit in to see what comes by. Rick Scheuerman had a great idea - there's a hangout in Athens named Nucci's Space. It was originally a place where one could rent musical rehearsal space by the month, that also has a coffee shop. I think, as I recall the story, that Nucci had committed suicide, but someone kept Nucci's Space up and running. So one of the things they do there is have auctions of art and musical instruments to provide support for depressed/suicidal people. Rick suggested that I take some of these old beat relical guitars that I have in abundance just sitting around, make them into pieces of art, and either donate or perhaps take a small percentage of the sale of these items. What sayeth thee old friend?

I like the auction angle[not so much the 'cause' enumerated]; also, auctioning off unwanted guitar-bodies converted into 'art' would not provide the benefit I imagine; I think you should cobble together an instrument, using all your acquired skills, that is meant from its conception to be auctioned off @Nucci's Space; the bidders would be local musicians/collectors that you'd be pleased to meet[& that may commission lucrative projects going forward]; no charge for this wonderful idea

the Athens music scene has developed a somewhat muted presence online; it was in emergence-stage, when I was dating my 1st wife & made the drive frequently in my VW-van, fitted w/8-track stereo system sorry I did not mention my amazement at DEB's photo of tomorrow's lunch; I'll use that image for cover art soon, and look forward to gator's comment on it once I have the TITLE, I'll know what to write about in the contents; these images can entice many more clicks, and that is what I'm exploring @Booksie.com my 'editor' sucks, but I'm also exploring better ways to make use of its features; learning as I go keeps me busy at this keyboard not much real interaction with other readers/writers has occurred; there is a moderator calling himself Booksie Guy; BG is probably not a BOT, but I have not really gotten to him yet I tried to get a new persona at Retirement Online, but have not heard back from its Appleton, WI moderator/witch checked out 'online banks' without any success; ALLY requires govt.-issued ID to open an account if you had been able to open my home-video, you could have seen me vibrating; my tremors are pretty bad, and when my paycheck arrives, I usually sign the damn thing first thing in the morning, before I have my coffee; this seems to make the scrawl more legible my typing ability is affected, and this over-sized keyboard is a help with my target acquisition difficulties https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uVlSVkzbJDA check out the antiquated studio equipment featured here

Gary Jules, Michael Andrews

All around me are familiar faces Worn out places, worn out faces Bright and early for their daily races Going nowhere, going nowhere Their tears are filling up their glasses No expression, no expression Hide my head, I want to drown my sorrow No tomorrow, no tomorrow And I find it kinda funny, I find it kinda sad The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take When people run in circles it's a very very Mad world, mad world Children waiting for the day, they feel good Happy birthday, happy birthday Made to feel the way that every child should Sit and listen, sit and listen Went to school and I was very nervous No one knew me, no one knew me Hello teacher, tell me what's my lesson Look right through me, look right through me And I find it kinda funny, I find it kinda sad The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take When people run in circles it's a very very Mad world, mad world Enlarge your world Mad world

The cover art is from a photo taken in 1968. The building featured was a new one, and I graduated from Bass High School on its stage. Most of the boys were headed for college... or Vietnam. I chose the former, and believe that it has made all the difference. When roads diverge in a yellow wood, noticing their width and worn condition is just one approach to the decision-making quandry. I was taught to choose door number three. 1968 was a good time for such choices, and many of my contemporaries made just such a definitive choice. If you possess the technology to view/listen to DVD's, might I suggest the enhanced edition of WOODSTOCK; the movie. You'll see what many of those, that chose door number three, looked like. My graduating class was small by most standards; we chose to sing a song from "Man of La Mancha." But we 'walked' in a less-prescribed manner. I drove off in a Renault Dauphine with a slow-moving-vehicle sign attached to the rear. Though I might like to be eighteen again, at the time, I was not looking back. I did return to this building many times though; I worked there on many occasions. Sometimes I worked on that stage; sometimes I worked in the exhibit hall at the other end of the complex. The construction of this facility, by the municipality, was considered to be an important urban renewal project. That is how 'buttermilk bottom' disappeared from Forest Avenue. Another blight vanished when Fulton County Stadium went up. In 1951, the city received the All-America City Award, due to its rapid growth and high standard of living in the southern U.S. Annexation was the central strategy for growth. In 1952, Atlanta annexed Buckhead, as well as vast areas of what are now northwest, southwest and south Atlanta, adding 82 square miles (210 km2) And tripling its area. By doing so, 100,000 new affluent white residents were added, preserving white political power as well as expanding the city's property tax base And enlarging the traditional leadership upper-middle-class white class. That class now had to room to expand inside the city limits. Federal court decisions in 1962-63 ended the county-unit system thus greatly reducing rural Georgia control over the state legislature, enabling Atlanta, and other cities, to gain proportional political power. The Federal courts opened the Democratic Party primary to black voters, who surged in numbers and became increasingly well organized through the Atlanta Negro Voters League. Rush week was soon upon me, and I attended two of the parties; choices! ALPHA TAU OMEGA was where one of my acquaintances at work had become a paddle-wielding brother, so I checked out their presentation. As a sort of back-up plan, I also checked out the men of ALPHA EPSILON PI; they checked me out as well; I was rejected on religious grounds. Time for door number three. I carried a full load for four consecutive quarters at my new school, before that other door presented itself. From Fall Quarter of 1969 until Fall Quarter of 1970, I was out of school, but stuck to my solemn vow to return in one year[against all the odds]. It had been too cloudy and overcast to see the eclipse of the sun that year; there was a lot going on that I did not see very clearly. When I returned to school, I changed my major from 'undecided' to ANTHROPOLOGY; a Greek professor guided my acquisition of this love for studying men; he was Greek Orthodox, and would have been rejected by those men at AY-EE-PIE as well; he took his 101 class to the Church he attended, and we followed the liturgy in Greek[and wrote a paper on the experience]. The mosaic in the dome was impressive. I never adhered to my degree 'program,' and so I never graduated from GSU; a classmate from Bass had gotten his degree in just four years[Class of '72]; I ran into Ross at SEARS, where he was selling tires; I went back to that stage, where the Class of '68 had sung about walking on through the wind.

Everyone knows that without a valid photo ID, you cannot purchase a box of breakfast cereal. The folks across the wall will need a better system, and the increasing use of bio-metrics[by connected data terminals] is a giant leap for the AI kind. UPC's can be scanned to track products as they change locations. RFID's are often laminated into photo ID's, so an employer can track his/her minions, and control their access to sensitive areas within their workplace. In the US, your SSN connects you to an exhaustive data base that 'knows' how hard you work, how much compensation you receive and where your 'assets' are currently being stored. What can be 'learned' about an individual, and how quickly this new data can be accumulated, attached to the appropriate individual files and how quickly those updated files can then be assessed is what AI exists for. Current business models[like at FaceBook & GoogleChrome] will each gradually lose its earning potential[a process being accelerated by the public sentiment in favor of government regulation of all their data collection and sharing practices], as the flow of data becomes more centralized and access to those files and data streams more restricted. The global expansion of connected Android devices is shifting the product consumption patterns in growing/struggling economies towards some ill-perceived goal, that becomes more and more achievable with each passing minute. Both of the big 'data players' in the streams of ones and zeroes now being catalogued here in the US, have made agreements to share it with our government. If we assume that there are adults in the room, where the analysis of this growing horde is being coordinated, then we can also assume that some of those individuals will be targeted to administer this collection and analysis process, once that 'responsibility' is transferred to a more 'independent' entity, resembling the Federal Reserve in its organization. At that point, the elected representatives in government will be reduced to an ordinary subset of identified individuals, to be monitored and manipulated by an increasingly automated system. If the drones can find you, you could be quickly eliminated. What will determine your value to that global system? Your consumption patterns is the obvious answer; BUY WISELY! I'm off to get an HBO fix; at eight they are replaying a missed episode of "My Intelligent Friend" just for my benefit; this series is filmed in Italian & broadcast with English subtitles; this makes it difficult to enjoy the imagery, because I'm busy reading so I'll know WTF is going on.

AI may be the thing that brings us into full globalization, perhaps the issue that preachers in my past have warned us about. Our baptist preacher out in Mableton used to hand out Watchtower pamphlets that had articles regarding the evils of globalization. Hmm ... to be overseen by the great computer in the sky (cloud networking).

I've been keeping my cloud-connection turned off

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bixby_(virtual_assistant) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jen_Taylor https://www.pcworld.com/article/2099943/microsofts-cortana-digital-assistant-guards-user-privacy-with-notebook.html https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Invoke_(smart_speaker) https://www.ask.com/youtube?q=cortana&v=DxrJWSi_IWo https://www.windowscentral.com/why-splitting-cortana-and-search-windows-10-makes-sense https://www.zdnet.com/article/microsoft-moves-key-technologies-including-cortana-from-research-to-product-groups/ https://arstechnica.com/information-technology/2012/06/inside-the-architecture-of-googles-knowledge-graph-and-microsofts-satori/

https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=ASMR like those furries, these 'artists' are being accused of deviance; what say you? https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=furry+fandom

To be sure, I'm not understanding the nature of adult cos-play.

cable TV is definitely turning my brain to mush, but some furries have serious behavioral issues that can be mitigated by their cos-play; ASMR is the new player on the block, and their 'offerings' have been 'taken down' on multiple forums as somehow inappropriate; I find this lack of freedom[of expression] to be indicative of rapid 'political' corrosion of the medium; that button labelled REPORT would be less attractive, if your reporting history came up with your profile info; STFU would be door # 3 Gibi explains it quite well: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCE6acMV3m35znLcf0JGNn7Q

I'll start back driving for Uber or Lyft later today, after having taken some time off due to those pesky heart issues. I didn't feel confident driving people around knowing that I was possibly still at risk for another "coronary event". The cardiologist has cleared me to return to normal activities. I didn't start driving for these ride-sharing companies to impress anyone, hell there sure as shit ain't nothing glamorous about carting poor people around all day. What it does give me is nearly instant income that I can access almost immediately after giving someone a ride. Pair that with there ain't a boss riding my ass. I can drive whenever I want to, I set my own hours. And lastly it gives me something to do beside sit here and piss and moan about things over which I have no control. :) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tg0BNTebcbY

there are two types of people in the world; when your 'ride' climbs into your vehicle, do you re-adjust the rear-view mirror to center onto the face of the speaker; door #3 is insisting that he/she rides up front; keep on smiling RYAN wrote: I make projects of my experiences working UBER. Last video of this nature got a lot of attention- though, I deleted it to be (slightly) more professional. So here is another few weeks worth of footage. These videos have been for nothing but fun, and I'm glad others have appreciated them. It's awesome to have an audience watch something that I've created and I want to see if this little project can go somewhere. Those in my videos consented to being in my project, blurred identity or not. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pVOJ5ZfzjF8

my TV took a shit... and now SANTANA is blaring; this album, the one with all those damn faces, was given to me by a chick that thought my DONOVAN eight-tracks were just not going to get me there; of course she was right... and so there were drums in the house; another tape cart that was played in that house was WHO'S NEXT; I thought it was pretty good travelin' music, along with a Beatles-thing called RUBBER SOUL; gettin' high & gettin' out on the road was a pretty good way to pass the time on my gap-year; when I decided on ANTHROPOLOGY, it was mostly because it legitimized the study of sex, drugs & rock'n'roll... so I studied... HARD! playing this complete album seems to have slowed down the clock; that's an unusual effect; I'm shopping for a King Crimson video [ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=no8L51U_KlM ]; not any WHO'S NEXT videos that do anything; guess I'll just let it play for awhile I get my TV going, and dammit... the water goes off; they're out there digging up the street; probably gonna be off the rest of the day brewed my coffee w/ice cubes; just try and outsmart an old white guy... go right ahead wrote a new ICU last night; about 40 peeks at it, w/no comments, so... vanished new text has less film-script niceties... less humor... no dialog...

He had to admit... he couldn't see a thing. A good bluff sometimes can win the pot. He spoke into the darkness, "I see you!" He hoped it had sounded convincing. Not a sound. Why had he come out here without his trusty flashlight? Only gonna be gone for a minute. Tell it to the wind. He turned with a confidence he wasn't actually feeling. In a slightly lowered voice, he spoke to himself as he walked away from where he thought the creature must be. "I'll be right back,... so don't you dare move." Not a sound. He tried to imagine his 'creature' when it was not cloaked in utter blackness. The imagined lighting his mind put into those trees just beyond the clearing where his friend had parked his truck was of no use; he could see the trees right enough, but the image he needed simply would not materialize there. Not knowing what was there with him... not knowing how far his friend needed to go in the truck to fetch water... not knowing how fast he could make it to the imagined safety of the old cabin... not knowing was making him sweat. And that creature could smell the fear... smell the open containers with food in them... smell where the truck had been parked, and the odor on that other one... that was far away now. His thoughts were on the amaretto hidden in his sleeping bag; then his hand was on it. He poured into the tin cup... the one he knew he'd left on the table; cup in hand, he closed and latched the rustic door. It was pitch black in the cabin too. He drank deeply. Forty proof means about twenty percent alcohol; better than a beer... smelling better too. Now there was scratching and clawing at the corner of the door. "I'd pour you one too, but I gotta find that flashlight,... first. Then maybe I can find another cup." He mock-toasted his little friend, and drank deeply once again. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_UNMTthguCQ

confession:the only GARCIA I like has cherries & chunks of chocolate in it

I've been rummaging around in those dusty old memory-bins, trying to remember when I switched from eight-track tape-carts over to vinyl LP's; first came WQXI, and then FM-stations became a thing; we were at 481 Clifton Rd., by the time I bought a stereo system[I would have been a senior in high school at the time... 1968]; 8-trak player/amplifier w/2 speakers that weighed nearly nothing; in the next room, my sister[13 months younger] was spinning LP's of Firesign Theater, Mothers of Invention & Jimi Hendrix Experience to annoy me; I moved out of there JAN 1970, & took that same stereo system to my Briarcliff apartment; during those tape-cart-years, I was driving an old VW 'bus[w/windows all-round]' that was repainted blue & gray; I had a tape player[under-dash] professionally installed; two ceiling-mounted speakers and a six-volt to twelve-volt converter mounted on the pan beside my engine; you could hear muted spark-field-noise when your tracks played[like a subtle audio-tachometer]; this 'dustbin' is kinda like a public library filled with stories packed onto shelves that nobody ever disturbs; these stories have sacrificed chronological accuracy for other, more aesthetic consistencies; at this point in my recollection process, I believe that "Tea For The Tillerman" was a tape I had bought, and that "John Barleycorn Must Die" was purchased on vinyl; both these were released in 1970; one night, in that first apartment, I popped in a tape that I distinctly disliked, and slept all night while wearing bulky headphones, and while the tracks endlessly looped; Blood Sweat & Tears... NYC's antidote to Chicago; I cannot remember when I bought a better home-system & a turntable, but I recall listening to Ten Years After, Grand Funk Railroad & Bloodrock; "The Survival of Saint Joan" was also an LP that I bought[released 1971 by a Tucker, GA garage band]. In 1972[Fall/Winter], I drove around the US in my '71 VWCampmobile[bought new], with nothing more than a German-built radio; the best I could do, was find a pirate station, broadcasting at major mega-wattage, from a tall tower located on Canadian soil.

over there, I'm friedlich I'm new there, having joined on Black Friday tonight, I ran across your e-mail address, in a COMMENT you had left most folks do not do that, and maybe you are different from most folks[that, at least, is my hope] I sometimes publish my e-mail address, trying to encourage a more image-friendly medium of exchange my privacy concerns are next to none, and anxiety over firewall-type protection against virus/worm/spam/whatever is negligeable the site reminds me of a multi-player game moreso than a community of writers of course, I'm still figuring out how to use the site for my own purposes I'm an older guy, living in southwest Georgia a retired stagehand; been writing since I quit working in 2005 not a boozer[or any other vice that costs money] caffeine & nicotine are my thing[like most writers... ALLEGEDLY] my stories run the gamut, and there is a lot of it that could be described as non-fiction fiction is preferred, when stinging truths are being revealed a cloak of plausible deniability my favorite author is Neal Stephenson hands down but I read a lot of books, and admire some of the fascinating women who have chosen to write Barbara Kingsolver springs to mind - http://www.kingsolver.com/books/ send me something you are working on

Ready for rain. My youngest half-sister, Sandra, (who's roughly 16 years older than me) married this guy back in...66 - 67. Perry Carlton Buie, aka Buddy. I have no idea how or where they met. They had gotten a house over near Columbia Avenue, behind Belvedere Plaza. Sandra had two daughters in tow from a previous marriages, Belinda, and Johnnie. Belinda is two years my senior, Johnnie is 4 years younger. My mother and I would visit them pretty often, and they were all lots of fun to visit. Buddy was a budding song writer/producer that had been working with southern recording legend Bill Lowery. Bill at that time owned Mastersound Studio, and had a publishing company called Low-Sal. Buddy's first hit was a song called "I Take it Back" recorded by Sandy Posey'

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r-zoLSF_-3c

And that was the launch of a very successful career for him. I won't bury you under all the details of all the artists that he has written for. He passed away a few years ago.

When he was really starting to bring in the money he was working with members of Roy Orbison's stable-band, The Candymen. They had some nominal success, but The Candymen begat The Classics IV, which did very well and had a handful of top 10 AM radio hits. The Classics IV begat The Atlanta Rhythm Section. ARS did great in the album oriented rock (AOR) format. But as always success has a price. Sister Sandra was jealous and didn't trust Buddy, he was always around southern rock celebrities, and their hot ass girlfriends. Not a good combo, so that marriage flopped.

The real point of it all though, was to say that I had some early life exposure to the music industry and I knew back then that I wanted to be somehow in the business of working in and around music. A car radio installer. A stagehand cum audio assistant. A song writer and a casual player of guitar, bass, and synthesizers, and now a maker of fine cuban cigar box instruments. (laugh at the last one).

When Buddy would have the guys from The Classics IV come by for rehearsals, me and little Johnnie would hang out in the hallway listening intently to what they were playing. What I saw about Buddy that was so appealing to me was that he kinda just did what the fuck he wanted, when he wanted to, and had very few people to answer to.

I liked that aspect of R&R...

you told me about BUDDY once before, and now I get the CANDYMEN connection to that pineywoods thing you sent; did you visit Blue Devil-country often enough to learn your way around? ...any Belvedere Plaza experiences that would make a story or song lyric? Those places were within cycling range of my Little Five Points-hood; my gang would even go fishing in a creek out there. Kids today ain't about shit; so much character-building movement across a sprawling urban environment; we weren't afraid, and we weren't over-supervised I'm writing about my Sunday morning, which is the only day of the week, when I make the effort to rise from my bed as early as 9 AM. I'm retired now, which carries with it the unquestionable benefit of 'sleeping in.' I make this conscious effort, because I cannot bear to miss the SUNDAY MORNING broadcast.

An interesting ARTICLE, aimed at baby boomers who read such 'posted material,' requires that I first do a bit of research. This morning's research has yielded the e-mail address directing this COMM to some unknown reader. What if this lucky recipient became known to all those that rise early on Sunday morning, like I have done? Such a story, to actually make the cut, would need to have some visual appeal... something for the camera to 'see' that is not just another talking head. If it becomes about the many suggestions that are not considered by the show's producers, I'm imagining an over-the-shoulder shot of an INBOX displayed on a PC's monitor; boring... right? Following the next suggestion that has some potential, through a chain of CBS News employees, into a roomful of writers and producers having the kind of discussion that ends with a proposal that will get funded, while turning the negative into a positive, still lacks the kind of imagery that will excite a camera crew. With the show's long history, many of the best ideas will have probably been done before, but a story about the technology that has changed the whole process probably has not been considered. Retired persons have an attachment to the kind of resistance to change that would permeate such a story. They also have a strong dislike for seeing a computer screen depicted as a character in a film or TV broadcast. And reading those texts that pop-up on the screen, because there is a SmartPhone in the scene, is particularly annoying. A surprising amount of the liesure time that retirement affords my boomer colleagues is devoted to online communication, by the many individuals who have made the necessary adjustments to modern technologies. These intrepid 'explorers' deserve a part in the story, but the visual appeal considerations must still be artfully applied. Some 70 million retired individuals make up a significant slice of an imagined pie-chart, that represent specific demographic segments to be considered as 'topical' by story creators up there. Please don't show us the pie chart... boring! Show us the bewildered old guy, searching for a qualified salesperson at Best Buy, to guide his purchase of an affordable laptop. Engaging that much younger demographic, now driving story selection in those board rooms, is a key consideration, if I'm to get my story selected for production. So, lets have a look at that young salesperson, that gets to help the customer make this purchase of electronic gadgetry. Are we talking tatoo's, facial piercings and a blue tooth-device protruding from the ear canal? Do we focus on his/her need to pay off the loan that sent them to some university, that forgot to teach them about being over-qualified for that sales position they would end up in? The scene ends in two ways; the kid sells the customer more gaming capability than he'll need for Skype, his gmail account and finding his grandchildren's FaceBook pages; or,... and this outcome is far more unlikely... the grandfather bests the salesperson, walks out of Best Buy with the low-end device he can afford[and was surprisingly in stock] and encounters no insurmountable difficulty, when he turns the contraption on at his comfortable breakfast-table, later that day, after a frustrating 45-minute ride on a metro bus, and a 20-minute hike, from the nearest bus stop, carrying his purchase with tired old arms, and painful arthritic hands. The interaction between the two alien cultures, that needs to occur for a purchase to be transacted, holds out the best hope I have for this story to get made. There are casting considerations, of course; two actors with current shows on CBS works best, so who could we actually get? They should both maintain residences in the same city, and those probable 'locations' to be used during production should be near a cooperating Best Buy retail store. My Dad was a technician that was employed by CBS News, back in the film-days, when a 3-man crew was required to document a story. He would go out with Laurens Pierce when cities in the South were burning; a dangerous job at the time, for a man armed with a Sun Gun. I got lucky enough, just once, to get one of these call-outs from our local affiliate; the three of us lugged equipment up to a crowded office-space at CDC Headquarters; a story was breaking about syphylitic men going untreated, during a clinical study over in Alabama; the prepared statement that we recorded there, was hardly worth all the labor involved[much less the expense incurred due to union wages that were paid]. This 'story' has already been published; here is a LINK to the page: https://www.booksie.com/577188-sunday-morning Please spare no expense with your REPLY to my e-mail. I'd like to add it to the story.

When I consider bits and pieces of the article, not viewed as a whole - "lacks the kind of imagery that will excite a camera crew." that statement kinda stuck out. Who gives a fuck what motivates a camera crew? I'd think, and wtf do I know, that the union pay scale would in and of itself be motivational. Having put that out there, it was just the first thing that came to mind. For my edification, in this story, what is your objective? How easy or how difficult the purchase was to make? Beat the kid at the sales game? Having made the purchase, the seemingly sad and somewhat difficult trip home? Perhaps an object lesson about our aging boomer population? All of the above? I see angles. Perspectives. I see an opportunity to make Best (fucking) Buys a proletariat hero, which is just bullshit. I see an opportunity to attempt to make plain to the children of boomers how difficult life can be. I see an op to make the whiz kid at BestBuy look like a jerk. What made the bus ride so frustrating?

Q#1:crew excited by producer's idea will spend more time and produce more fascinating video; imagine being CBS's go-to guy for interviews Q#2:dual objective:sell someone @CBS to do such a story & use e-mail text as content for Booksie.com[fixing to go silver sometime today] Q#3:under 'all of the above' I was trying to imagine what a crew could do to illustrate 'the story' with video that might be doable; my first trip to STAPLES to buy[for ca$h] my new laptop left me leaving for Office Depot with 'urge to kill' etched on my wizened face; next to finding out that the model displayed, at a sales price I can afford, is no longer in stock, my 2nd greatest peeve would be that sales pitch to purchase the more expensive laptop, conveniently on display right next to the one they don't even have, pointing out all that upgraded capability, like he was trained to say to his customer, because he don't know HDMI from HTML; the portrayal of transportation difficulties experienced routinely by retirees, goes to the value to the customer of the salesperson getting everything right on his first try Q#4:at the very end where you highlight the frustration, it would be up to the crew here to depict in their visual medium, the sorts of riders one might encounter, on a ride that zig-zags through all the housing projects, picking up more annoying riders, or perhaps letting the worst of them get off, stopping too abruptly, engaging in stupid arguments over the payment of the fare that delay any forward progress, and arriving at the desired destination 45-minutes later, when a crow could fly that distance in about three minutes its been pretty quiet up that way,... so a shout-out found a new 'place;' it's called bookrix throwin' life a spitter; got up about 7:30 when I do this, I end up snoozin' during my news broadcasts latest short story kind of a poke at LGBTQ's Y-knot try something new? might bring some of these trolls out of the woods kinda stole these paragraphs, for... ??

The life of a writer is pretty solitary, both by design and necessity. While you may find yourself in the neighborhood coffee shop a few days a week just for a change of pace, being a writer can be lonely and quiet.

Well-meaning as they are, your friends and family don’t understand the nuance between conflict and crisis. Try as they might, they can’t relate to the complexity of creating a consistent voice.

It’s no wonder that writing and alcohol are familiar companions. But it’s not happy hour yet. Here’s the good news: you’re not alone. In fact, right this moment, writers just like you are actively participating in writing communities all over the web. It’s time that you meet.

don't care for the alcohol bit, but it might fly did the coffee shop bit; kinda cool, but I'm persona non gratis at the downtown one cain't afford that shit no more nohow; cain't even get it together for Burger King Dollar Tree had some tasty canned goods; a $1 can of red beans & rice went down smooth[& spicy] lady behind me in line says that it's $.89 @Wal-Mart the pie-filling I bought would be $2 @Harvey's trade-off looks like Mueller's plannin' a warm reception for those freshmen/women Congressfolk Macron's reception heating up across the pond[the two M's havin' a populist crisis too; Europe's toast] it all started @NAPSTER; not Putin's doin' like some think battery in this Windows lapbook is for shit still fightin' off the FANG crowd; my spam folder still empty, but saw a browser-history thing pop-up w/firefox this AM tried out my MS-internet explorer as plan-B, but BING keeps interferin' & there are other annoying features I use WordPad, so I don't activate my introductory Office suite if I shut down instead of sleep, I have to close the cloud thing that slips in firefox wants to be set as default[another bothersome keystroke] there was an MS e-mail account that can't be used without a phone for activation code figuring out workarounds is my puzzle-thing; won't even register for ACER is there some LINUX browser code? wouldn't want snoopy here to know I was looking into that friedlich is being shamed for trolling already gonna try for a haircut today; it's gettin' too long[sides & back] clipping backside tricky w/tools I got w/trimmer[blind barber w/shaky hands] then there's the mess to clean up there's always the pony-tail option I also have one of those wave-caps, if I go native looking at the side of this new LG, there are yellow[video], white[L or MONO] & red[R] inputs and an S-VIDEO thingy w/tiny pins no HDMI I should find something like the back-up drive you suggested that can 'go there' have not heard back from CBS; no surprise they found a dead body on the corner; not watching my local news broadcasts means checking online for further details maybe they were digging his grave when the water went off my rides to the store, often two trips, indicate a decline in my physical strength that is mildly disturbing after 935-days of incarceration, I had soon gained back some musculature three trips to my storage unit, bearing incredible loads, took a lot more physical prowess than I now command I reminded myself that 2013-2015, I used to hoof it to the store[about 1 mi.], and backpack/carry back my supplies cycling is a luxury I'd hate to suddenly lose this motel-living is also a luxury[said the once-homeless man] I gathered all my manuscripts into one pile[for disposal?] took out any 'identifying documents' for safekeeping also have one three-page ms in an envelope I'll send that way one day tried giving away some of this ladies' apparel, but I think I offended my neighbor-lady with the gesture she liked the costume jewelry that was swag/booty found on the floor of my plan-B hidey-hole across from BK running out of ideas here "lady on"

I can relate to having lost some of that muscle. After I had the shoulder replacement I was laid up for about 8 weeks. Couldn't use the left shoulder at all, and was in a sling/pillow assembly that kept the arm in a state of comfortable non-use. That was pretty much the beginning of the end for my muscle tone. I'm striving to maintain the strength I have. I never thought I'd be this diminished. I sometimes have trouble lifting a full gallon of liquids such as water or milk with the left arm. Pair that with nerve damage that's caused a loss of sensation in my hands...argh...it's frustrating, considering that there was once a time when I could lift a chain motor with 75' of chain with just the left arm. That day has come and gone. I'd love to go pull that shrimp net with you again. Some of the most fun I've had was down at St. Andrew's sound, especially during a mullet run, where the dolphins were snagging mullet that were jumping the nets. What a great show of nature. I'm off for my half-mile round trip hike to the mailbox & back, then back to work on this bass guitar wine-box project for Tuck's brother. I'm almost finished with that, I just have to install the neck, the volume & tone controls, solder all the connections, install the machine heads, and seal the box. Ciao4now. Seizure later agit8r.

Seizure later agit8r ain't bad; mine was Ricky's tagline my intro to chain motors resulted from the now infamous "A call is a call" policy instituted by Local 41 bakNtheDAY; I was offered the chance to say no or yes to the worst thing on offer, before being skipped until my name rotated all the way back around; there was great benefit, on occasion, to getting first crack at something nobody else wanted to fuck with; this 'strict' policy was also a great way for a crook to skip quickly over a lot of referrals, before starting to fill a film crew, with a long list of assholes that turned down anything not film related, in order to maintain their position in this 'privileged' part of the rotating list; a full-time stagehand, with no friends in office[never wanted any], had to say yes every time[endless 4-hour calls] in order to eat; my rigging days started when OMNI Coliseum was new; we routinely had a 5-man crew[one groud rigger]; most points were not directly below any steel accessible from the catwalks in the pods; this, of course, meant guaging the lengths of two cables, Y-ed together with a down-length, to hit the bullseye; this was not only years before riggers became spider-men, that could rig points from beams running between pods, but also years before roadcrews trooped enough cable to deal with arena-shit like the fukkin OMNI; the building had enough cable for their everyday rigging needs, but... it was all 1/2" shit; add the weight of 30 to 50 feet of 1/2" cable, to about 90' of chain, and you get two men pulling against two other men in another pod, that they cannot see or hear; a good ground rigger was key, and you didn't want no sound puke up there pullin' on that heavy shit beside you; no pussies need apply! - a manly physique was the result, when most of the[by now hundreds of them] guys on the old rotating list found out what was required to say yes to a rigging call, and the list just spun right back to the last 5 guys that took a call at the OMNI; I got seriously beefed-up, before this bullshit came to an end[& before those spider-men showed up, and they started paying a premium wage to get them] I couldn't find any rigger-pics, but this attachment shows the connector tubing; access to the catwalks was from the roof; to access the steel at the apex of a pod, you had to walk up the outside of the pod, using a rope left dangling for the purpose; if brave enough, you could save a lot of time and effort, walking the very broad tube to the next apex position; one problem, however... there was a crotch-height + 3" lightning rod half way across; not so bad far the tall cowboys

I got lucky having Reagan, Milo, Hokey, and Big Bob to show me the ropes as it were. The Fox and Civic Center were generally easy rigs with most points onstage being single-point because of the way the grids were laid out. The Classic Center grid is a different story though. with 7 main beams spanning upstage to downstage, and no beams spanning left to right, practically every point was a compound bridle. At least in The Classic Center you can see & hear the up-riggers. Also nice is that The Classic Center had installed expanded steel grates between the beams so you can stow cables and gear up there. I miss being a rigger. I miss being healthy enough to rig.

I think 'stinger' should read stringer here; a 'stinger' is a 10' grounded extension cord[I had to ask the Best Boy]; bridle, basket & chain-motor are okay; when I took my ground rigger's training in Vegas, there was only one correct way to lay out pieces and parts for baskets... one way to engage the shackles with 'economic' motions of hands, feet & back... one way to tie a completed bridle out on the floor so the high men could inspect the work before lifting; the up-rigger 'makes' the basket[shouldn't have to undo a shackle or untie a bowline knot, to secure the hardware properly]; at the fukkin OMNI, the poor ground rigger frequently had to hold the 1.5 ton motor overhead, long enough for his four guys to secure both baskets, because it's 110' to the apex & the chain was all paid out; at least, if held above the headbone, the dropped shackle ain't a killshot

know of wire-rope, and witnessed a splicing operation @OMNI one day; the splice was as long as the arena[cleared for the process] Kermit[Spradlin] tryed over and over to teach me to splice hemp; that turn-back on the end, that was what the old guys did[pretty quickly] when they cut a rope[often for a snub to tie off a line set], instead of all that gooey electrical tape, was about all I could ever handle; the other end of a snub[about 6'] had a short loop spliced into it[about 14" splice enough for securing the 'safety' to the pinrail] I still think that stinger is just wrong, Wrong, WRONG!

O Peaceful One, That’s what the word ‘friedlich’ means in my first language. And yes, I remember Linda Goodman and her books. The first one was very good, but by the time the second one appeared Linda had ‘caught’ spirituality and went way, way, way over the top with it. She invented a new numerology that did not make any sense at all, if I remember right and I can’t recall whether I read that second book to the end. It was a very poor affair and just cashing in on the success of the first one. God bless and have a good day, With love – Aquarius

2nd book disapointed the girls as well; they weren't half bad predicting love matches, nasty break-ups & etc. they would get your birthday in their crew-roster, and find the one for you my best match was the lighting designer, but he had too many other boyfriends[ballerino's everywhere] I'm PISCES, & the match w/wife #1 not so good[CAPRICORN]; next tour was a GEMINI that earned herself a full-length fur coat she was way too smart to become #2 my mentor was Aquarian man; smartest man I've ever known horoscopes are like fortune cookies; a dream-job if you are a writer[used to love the 'fortune' in BAZOOKA bubble gum] write the stuff correctly, and anyone will agree that his/her sign just got pegged; those coin-op dispensers don't have 12 hoppers Mary Alice Kemery a.k.a. Linda Goodman, of course, would not/could not agree but,... who wouldn't rather have 12 good forecasts in each daily paper instead of[in my case] one fishy one the shepherd that first saw a maiden bringing water in the heavens over his thirsty head, should get more credit, than some ancient astrologer, wearing ermine, & bearing myrrh this mentor had a way about him[buckle-up,... I'm talking about you now]; every person in his presence, big or small, credentialed or insignificant, would instantly be made to feel of prime importance; the sun shone upon you; this is bearing water, dear meanwhile, your defenses utterly destroyed, he'd be in your head... deep in your head, figuring things out... for YOU... for HIM... for someone else, that he may not have even met yet... well, that all depends on how the 'long game' plays out he could artfully manipulate anyone, make them feel good about it, and even if things turned out pretty badly 4U you loved him all the more... hating only his enemies[that had attacked you, because he was invincible] he would take you to 'special' places, impart sacred knowledge only meant 4U, find things you thought forever lost all the things a magus commands he was quite the yenta as well[but would probably end up 'with' your perfect girl] he moved in some pretty powerful circles, and it was as easy as 'teaching' kindergarten children his favorite recording was a live one w/Neil Diamond enduring an actual Hot August Night this was, of course, him, singing his siren-song to every young girl in a 100-mile radius are you blushing yet DON'T I love you! Everything about you! I'm not, however, fixing to drink your blood.

when I ran away from home[1st & last time], I was driving my sweetie[Diane was a year older w/fiery red hair] in a red Renault 10 w/push-button transmission For 1963 (initially only in France), Renault offered an automatic transmission of unique design, developed and produced by Jaeger.[7] It was first shown at the September 1962 Paris Motor Show.[8] Although it was described as a form of automatic transmission at the time, in retrospect it was more realistically a form of automatic clutch, inspired by the German Saxomat device which appeared as an option on several mainstream German cars in the 1950s and 60s. The clutch in the system was replaced by a powder ferromagnetic coupler, developed from a Smiths design.[8] The transmission itself was a three-speed mechanical unit similar to that of the Dauphine, but from the beginning with synchromesh on all gears in this version. The system used a dash-mounted push button control panel where the driver could select forward or reverse and a governor that sensed vehicle speed and throttle position. A "relay case" containing electromagnetic switches received signals from the governor and push buttons and then controlled a coupler, a decelerator to close the throttle during gear changes, and a solenoid to select operation of the reverse-first or second-third shift rail, using a reversible electric motor to engage the gears. The system was thus entirely electro-mechanical, without hydraulics, pneumatics or electronics. Benefits included comparable fuel economy to the manual transmission version, and easy adaptability to the car. Drawbacks included performance loss (with only three available gears) and a somewhat jerky operation during gear changes. The transmission was also used in the Dauphine and the Caravelle. https://otto-models.com/en/ - build your own Renault at 1/18 scale

This ability to do some figuring, is greatly enhanced, because of the rudimentary training I received, on how to use those FRACTIONS. Most classrooms today allow the use of calculators, even during exams. Some students, much younger than I, have trained themselves in the use of their digital assistant, through trial-and-error regimens, that work well for ONLINE GAMES. Learning long division is a thing of the past, but having learned that method greatly improves one's ability to calculate something in one's head. ESTIMATING the answer can greatly simplify these mental processes, while providing acceptable numerical results. You may not have a CALCULATOR handy, when you suddenly need the kind of guidance, that a numerical calculation could quickly provide. 'Scientific Calculators' are reasonably priced, and include many more FUNCTIONS, than their stripped-down companions on the shelf have. My favorite one of these added functions, at the touch of a button, causes a randomly generated three-digit number to be displayed. How utterly useful! Another pre-loaded data point, that makes these calculators much more useful, would be a FORMULA remembered from some geometry class, or a physics lab you endured in college. With a formula, and an understanding of the relationships between numerator and denominator of two separate fractions, you can do a lot of useful shit. This verity is the reason they sell calculators at Home Depot & Loew's. They also sell the kind of tools needed, to remove the electronic device from its bubble-packaging. A formula I like is the one for calculating the length of a circle, which uses both its diameter and pi[the Greek symbol that roughly equals 3.14]. This FORMULA is useful for calculating the speed at which our planet circles about the sun, if you remember how far away that star is. Using such a large quantity in a calculation, means that your answer will sometimes be represented in 'scientific notation.' This is to save space on the tiny read-out screen, and should not create insurmountable problems for the operator. Similar calculations, using the same formula, will tell you how many tulip bulbs will be needed, of each color that you have chosen, for several varigated, concentric circles, planted hastily in the FALL, when the bulbs are widely available, and much cheaper to purchase. Figuring out how many eggs you should boil, so you can mix up a three-day supply of fluffy egg salad, is a different kind of problem, but it also has a trial-and-error solution. Believe it or not, it was this trial-and-error process that enabled Apollo astronauts to land their LEM on the moon.

three 'wise' men, bearing gifts followed a star[which some say 'moved' in the night sky in a noticeably unusual fashion] was there any disagreement among these three about what had been observed? three's are pretty important, as you know are there psychological implications buried in this belief in the 'power of 3?'

I was in ANTHROPOLOGY, and freely admit shortcomings relating to psychology cocaine use & Red Book symbolism did fall within my purview study & research into astrology, sorcery & freemasonry have me leaning towards early roots involving healers

this said, I'm quoting the 20th century's most prominent spiritual master:

Black Magic has always one definite characteristic. It is the tendency to use people for some, even the best of aims, without their knowledge and understanding, either by producing in them faith and infatuation or by acting upon them through fear.

this scrap of text was saved, because I was anticipating your e-mail response, so prepared myself I choose to 'act'/think about YOU, instead of wonder why I'm doing it I did take a senior-level course with a new textbook:"Culture & Personality" what did a gal, with an astrologer's webpage, study in preparation? reading stories gently molds the 'story of SELF' that determines our ability to ACT any 'story' requiring these 'edits' simply cannot be accepted as FACT[two rhyming stanzas... should I go for THREE?]my story is so long, that the attention span required does not yet exist language is the real key to a greater understanding in most every FIELD useful language always ends with a tryst negotiating a willingness in the other to YIELD[4 stanzas] this 'sentiment' is purely Darwinian the truth is, since civilization was birthed by, and gave birth to an alphabetic written form of the spoken language there are far too many individuals, fully integrated into society, that can choose to be motivated by artificial drives that do not contribute to successful reproduction like writing stories about it blame it on the moon

Think that would be handy for calculating sidereal time, vs solar time?

you mock me; how tall is your obelisk?

I'm not mocking you brother, I was just having a chuckle. We're victims of our own mechanisms. The calculator made us weaker and less knowing. This is also happening with computers and smart phones. We aren't pushing our minds to be all they can be. I haven't stored anyone's phone number in years. The argument is that you can use your mind for other, more important things ...like watching cat videos on the screen...

yeah,... those damn cat-videos; I meant your reference to sidereal time, and something I had written about shadows moving about on the floor of my two-man cell

FaceBook, Apple, Netflix & Google are the 4 FANG stocks, which are characterized by their unreasonable P/E-ratios. When I boot-up my device, the first set of keystrokes that I execute, get me disconnected from 'the cloud.' Then, I can click on several options, colorfully displayed, when my FireFox portal screen is displayed. [though this browser is pinned to my task bar, I keep on declining to set it as my default browser;2 more keystrokes] These options are 'ranked' & Google & Amazon are ahead of the Mail.com option that is convenient for me. I have never even visited the Amazon site, but a lot of their junk came already loaded on my new device. There is another one included in my top six, waiting to whisk me away to a MicroSoft APP-store. I wonder what their current P/E-ratio is? There is a YouTube link, but I do visit that Google territory frequently. Apple sold-out to Microsoft, before Microsoft sold-out to Google, and that was before FaceBook & Google sold-out to HSA. In 2011, law enforcement technicians took physical possession of my Notebook device in order to duplicate its drive. Nowadays, such nonsense is no longer necessary. LE's problem now is sorting all those automatically sorted files that keep piling up on their servers. They do not have enough agents to do the necessary sorting & opening of so many suspect files needed to keep up. Instead of a new SpaceForce, Uncle Sam should be preparing for CyberWar, like the Russians & Chinese have. Losing the CyberSpace Race ain't gonna be good, and they have already received several 'Sputnik-embarrassments.' Android OS, in combination with a successful G5-buildout, represents additional frontiers to be protected. During WWII, piles of printed propaganda, were dropped by aircraft overflying urban areas in Axis-territory. The US CyberSpace is being overflown by simiar distributors of toxic materials, and we are powerless to respond. This, as our own propaganda grows increasingly less toxic. Ill-advised trade wars further weaken our position globally, as well as incentivizing new agreements & partnerships. Recent downward pressure on both stock & bond markets simultaneously, is being characterized as a rare occurrence. What happened on those historical occasions? A declining US Dollar would have just such an effect on financial markets. Where assets are denominated in weak currencies, one can expect tandem movements of all asset classes. The global currencies headed in the opposite direction should not be invested in such assets. Large trade imbalances where those debts can be paid off with ever-cheaper Dollars, are also undesirable. So, when India seeks to export significantly less product, what happens to prices in the US? And what becomes of the bluff, that our media has labeled a trade war?

We've been being profiled with steadily increasing depth as data storage became abundant and inexpensive either locally or remotely. A terabyte of retail hard drive storage is about $50, cheaper if you choose to cloud-store your data. My first HDD was 10MB and cost around the same amount. Between AI driven flagging mechanisms, faster and more abundant storage, and our own willingness to share personal information on therm inter-webs, anyone with a smart phone, tablet, or other computing device most likely has a profile. I feel sure that since 1991, there's been enough information gathered about me to provide LE a solid psych profile. I bought my first PC to begin determining the myriad of ways that we're being surveiled. We're screwed, dude.

I'd prefer, at least, the courtesy of a reach-around; wonder if Snowden is still in Moscow?

I think it is laughable, and very French, that yellow vests only clog Parisian boulevards on weekends, as they have to work. Picket lines at the GWCC, and @warehouse where my dear old Dad was a captain, were like that. I remember when all of Poland went out on strike, and "Solidarnosc!" entered the conversation. I spent four long years in a non-union apprenticeship, suggested by an old redneck @BAT. At one point, there was a 'hearing' and I was to be booted from the program. I invited this old bureaucrat to sit in on it, as a concerned observer. Problem solved. Repercussions loomed however. After a series of job interviews 'they' referred me to[where the member-contractor had already agreed not to hire me], I went to IBEW to seek their help. The union organizers sent me to a job site, they were targeting[in order to get at union members working there], where I was quickly hired at journeyman wage. I'd give those 'slugs' a dose of vitriol, as I was going in about 7:45 AM. Then I'd pocket the sign-in sheets, when I got upstairs[40th floor], and secreet them to the organizers. When that job ended, I returned to the Fox stage, a wiser man.

1988 Democratic National Convention in Atlanta at The Omni & GWCC. Just miles & miles of cables running between those two facilities. Seemed rather weak. The bridge/turnaround between The Omni & GWCC. FBI labor racketeering agent Brian Hitt on the scene with with his team of covert cam-ops and the audio squad with their shotgun mics. It's all well documented in the FBI & GBI archives, but you can't find dick about it on the internet. It's as though only one low-rent food workers union was the only union to apply any (laughable) pressure on the DNC in 1988. I will say this, whoever came up with the idea to oil the up-ramp to the bridge/turnaround from Int'l Blvd to the Omni was a fuckin' genius.

there were live feeds from convention hall to CNN secured to the bottom of that bridge; another fuckin' genius made some air-gaps interrupt the video; some kinda stones, huh?

From what I hear, there were several instances of air-gapping the cable runs. ;) Must have been just a series of unfortunate accidents.

probably slipped on that slippery slope, with a sharp cutting-tool inhand; unfortunate indeed

RUNNING for a Congressional Office builds up a momentum; a physical movement towards certain achievements, related to specific ISSUES, that should never be interrupted, by a 2-, 4- or 6-year rest period. Learning how to draft enduring legislation, need not involve years slaving away in some accredited law school. YOU can acquire the necessary skills in a fairly brief span of study-time. You must begin, by reading as many 'representative samples' as you can obtain. You could limit the documents to be thoroughly parsed, to the kinds dealing specifically with the ISSUE you have chosen to focus your efforts on. Your problem, initially, will be expanding your vocabulary enough to be clearly understood, once you enter the writing phase that will follow. Certain traditional 'forms' should be employed during this second phase. Phase three begins, when you furnish copies of your document to qualified confidants, for their opinions regarding certain changes that should be made, forecasting prospects for successful passage of such legislation or suggestions about how courts might reinterpret aspects of any resulting LAW's. For this, you need e-mail addresses for serving Congressmen, judges currently on the appropriate bench and affected business entities that can refer your inquiry to a battery of litigators. Replies to your inquiries will almost certainly indicate certain adjustments to your output that would be advisable. Phase four involves giving credit for the introduction of your BILL, to some ranking member of Congress, that has publicly attached himself to your ISSUE, in order to get himself elected. Previously unaddressed ISSUEs are somewhat problematical in this regard, but can be advanced by celebrities, clergymen and struggling local politicians that are 1)not camera shy, & 2)looking for a powerful issue to which they might attach themselves. More e-mail addresses will most likely be required. My ISSUE was pension administration, and it was very unpopular. I did considerable research, to be sure that I had my facts straight. I collected a plethora of e-mail addresses. I wrote a speech, and practiced before a mirror while timing myself, until I could, basically, read forcefully, everything that I had written, in less than 15 minutes. The facts I was pointing out, never made opinions change very much, but did garner me a lot of attention that had not existed before. I became "Chicken Little," delivered my speech years before my time and eventually, was proved right, when the sky indeed fell. About 700 participants, in my defined benefit pan, were adversely affected.

An ACT OF CONGRESS is not always the creation of a LAW. Often, these 'acts' invite some Administrative Agency to enact new LAW's, or otherwise ENFORCE certain specified REGULATIONS. Such LEGISLATION, must be carefully & unambiguously worded. Most of our 20th century Congressmen, though many of them were indeed trained litigators, were either unable to write the legislation they 'introduced,' or indisposed in some way to do so. Sometimes large staffs of competent individuals get the job of creating a BILL, while often obliged to adhere to instructions given them, to keep in mind, always, that whatever is introduced, cannot be awfully objectionable to the majority political party, in either end of the domed Capitol building. Another source for these craftily-worded proposals is the legal staff, maintained by some powerful business or political entity, whose well-paid lobbyist will deliver the carefully prepared 'suggestion,' at a steak dinner, over an expensive bottle of wine. In the 21st century, 'diversity' among the freshmen/women arriving in Congress every two years, often means that even more of the BILL's that we hear about will have been outsourced. In fact, the ability to read/comprehend proposed legislation, is also in rapid decline, and so the advice from adequately trained staff members grows in its influence, and its importance to the constituency. When you complain that some desirable change in your current situation would require an Act of Congress, you have unconsciously ceded your own ability to be effective, to myriad third parties with agendas that are often going to prove quite toxic. STOP WHINING! First, remove the most glaring ambiguities from that internal expression of your most fervent desires. Get help if that is what you need. Then, ACT... like Congress. Or maybe that should read, "like Congress should be capable of doing, willing to do & adequately prepared to do."

my sign-in/homepage @mail.com was the fist thing that I saw this AM, after a full boot-up[& ditching that cloud] went into that little gear-box yesterday, and while I was changing a few things, I asked a few questions & paid those Firefox folks a visit too there's even some research on MS & that sell-out to Google[fukkin Chrome-enablers] oops! there's an APP Explorer update notification[@taskbar]; WTF did that shit come from[I don't do APP!] there's some flamin' MS news thingy keeps me apprised whenever there are 'significant developments' RE:the Mueller investigations not too annoying, and that's how I found out about the 'big' earthquake the other day[4.7 in TN/GA] have you been reading about Jesse & Fred? I also wrote/posted something about the reveered Booksie Guy[founder/moderator] this prompted the evil Dr. Acula to kick me out of his publishing 'house' of 1000 horrors[had to move 4 'books' to QWERTY QUORUM] house-cleaning a sure sign that 1)I'm hitting a nerve, & 2)there's NAZI's @Booksie.com that deserve a little more attention trying to be subtle, & really do try to suppress MY trolling tendencies I'm up pretty early this AM, & lookin' forward to a SPAM-sammy for breakfast egg salad came out great, & there's still 8 eggs in the fridge 4more eggs are relatively cheap, so gettin' out my portable kitchen worth all the trouble & upset my theater-sound in disarray[but still available in a pinch] Miss Universe was a Filipina; I thought NEPAL had the best eye candy[in the top 20]; Miss Ecuador[eliminated earlier still] was HOT! Eagles squeaked past Rams last night; lot of spoilers in the mix this season[go Chiefs] Mariota's on Saturday[?]; some screwy holiday scheduling BS I wonder how my Thunder will fare, when B-ball takes over the only sports event awareness I had while in Vegas, was brother-in-law's phone call during Masters taunting PV about Tiger in AZ, it was Churchhill Downs here, the natives get restless[& loud] during March Madness and NBA playoffs I'm the lone holdout for the fukkin World Series that's all I have on sports

There's so much movie and TV work going on that the wonder girl is frazzled and looked about shot-out. Tuck sez they work 12 - 14 hour days 5 or 6 days a week. She programs lighting systems for the industry. Naturally we didn't just talk "banjo". Mostly she just explained all the different stuff she has going on.

TUCK needs WYSIWYG; design the lighting from home

Whaaaaaaaaaat? Gay musicians...un-fucking-heard of!!! Those shoes are just screaming "what a 'mo."

in high school, I wore the world's first pair of bright orange saddle oxfords; what was that screaming?

You wore 'em, you tell me. ;)

my Grandfather was a painter[both of houses & portraits], and on one of his visits when I was a child, he had returned from a job with a bit of dark brown in a can; I'm in the backyard with Joe, watching him organize all the shit piled in the trunk of his old beater; he sees that there is enough of the viscous remnant, and begins stirring with a broad pig-bristle brush; then, with a brushfull of shiny brown possibility, he throws his foot up onto his rear bumper, and applies a generous coating to his paint-speckled brogans[sock & all]; I guess it made an impression; Mods & Rockers were changing fashions and orange saddle oxfords seemed apropos to getting with it; they were my most comfortable pair[I had five pairs of saddle oxfords; a different look for each day in the school-week], and were badly scuffed from wear; I FIXED THEM! I was already queer-bait, so flamboyant footwear only added the faintest shout to already broadcast "come hither's"

if Mexico were to fund & build a wall on their northern border, they could design & control any gates thought necessary Canada could come to this same brilliant conclusion, but have a much longer border to their south USofA would quickly become a 'backwater' & learn some diplomacy Abe[not Lincoln] has decided to add a state-of-the-art aircraft carrier to their somewhat modest self-defense force's naval arsenal I can't wait to see it sailing proudly upon the China Sea those Russians, allowed to continue their occupation of Japanese territory in the 1965 treaty, better look out Abe could pull a 'Thatcher' on their ass[still claiming self-defense] Modi will not let this important development go unobserved Aussies could use any help coming from both these Asian-Pacific naval assets all that ocean water makes a poor border-wall Philippines & Indonesia could be taking sides soon, and they represent major populations that produce surplus foods on DEC 21, Antarctica will be at the peak of their summer thaw, and we should start seeing some scary video from down that way South America is fast becoming a bigger wild card than Africa Panama will need two[very short] border-walls; they could get whatever they need from Home Depot Online I'm fixing to adjourn long enough to grate some boiled eggs & craft myself a sandwich I had Special K for breakfast[at 1:08 PM]

not so long ago, Japan had the most avid/affluent collectors of vintage guitars like the market for fresh tuna, they kinda became spoilers[unless you are a seller]

Japan was, at one time, made the best guitars you could buy outside of the US. Nowadays, with computer assisted design, and CNC milling machines almost any putz with a few thousand dollars to spare can be in the business of making precision, high quality guitars. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b4bbUaqwTlk

Japan also distills the world's highest quality Scotch. whassup w/dat?

So, you pair that CNC mill (with which one can also mill metal parts) with a computer, and a 3D printer, and I'm sure that ones ability to fabricate virtually anything becomes reality. Whoa. Hold on there, buckaroo. What about Mr. Retailer and his market-locked semi-monopoly selling copyrighted and patented products? DIGITAL RIGHTS MANAGEMENT...

NAMM was a wonderland, where competing instrument manufacturers got a very expensive opportunity for exposure. Some very well-attended guest artist performances at GWCC come to mind. Who plays your instrument is really the price-driver, and the actually-played instrument catapulted into the price-paid stratosphere! That auction you mentioned, could become a venue for one of these recognizable artists from the Athens music-scene. Have him or her[maybe them] play all your inventory, right before the bidding begins. Let the artist auction off the companion signatures, for the cause. Am I getting through here?

if Siskel & Ebert were arguing about some new film that was just out, their heated discussion might drift onto PRODUCTION VALUES(only EBERT would be likely to do that); if he argued for a THUMBS UP, based on excellent production value(making a film is like telling a story; some tell the same story better), he will say nthat the film's producers used amazing cinematography(spent lots more $$$) to express several themes/ideas, where most would not have(or would not have to), & that added P.V. made the film infinitely better, more entertaining & the extra-mile techniques became like another character in the story. YOUR TASK:when you have decided upon a particular 'song' to work-up for improving the ESSENCE ACT, do a YouTube search for videos & collect all that you may find(especially the less-professional and/or amateurish looking/sounding ones that somehow got posted); next, watch them all(probably several times each) & select the best few from the batch; discuss w/band-members WHY you thought those were the best ones; you may tend toward the better sound quality or the best of the musicians; you might find that you wanted to choose one of them, not for the music, but something they did that was captured in the video, or there were close-ups of fingering that you appreciated or just that the film featured separate performers at the right change-ups. My 1st TV-production had two cameras & a switcher; it was a softball game, sponsored by 96-ROCK & Alex Cooley, played by DJ's vs. band-members from KANSAS, when they came into town for a Concert(Cooley Promoted); it drew a large & raucous crowd of KANSAS-fans to Piedmont Park one sunny afternoon, helped promote both the Concert & the radio station(while having video-production equipment/personnel at the game helped boost all the excitement); one camera was fixed on a tri-pod behind the plate(to capture pitches & swings) & the other was just past 1st-base, and could pan to follow a hit and catch the play in-field or out-(w/close-up on 1st-base action); there was just one microphone, so I put it on a tall stand w/heavy, steady base, and placed where I got an adequate feed for both Alex's play-by-play calls on the P.A., and good coverage of the crowd-reactions(and even some overheard conversations in the bleachers); it took 3 of us, cameraman on 1st to do the panning if there was a hit/play, another guy on the switcher at my truck to change from behind-the-plate coverage, to the panning view of the field, whenever he heard that sound an aluminum bat makes clobbering a softball; then, of course, I was there directing(or perhaps repositioning the mike or just speaking a fake-part as faux-fan), and could have made the spectacle even greater, if I had carried a large megaphone around & shouted-out camera/switcher cues. Things went smoothly with 3-crew, and even though cameras weren't sync-ed & each switch rolled the image, the tape we produced gave the feeling of being there with crowd/Alex/KANSAS; my BetaMax was so amazing, that when I loaned my only copy to Alex, he never returned it(but word got around about my Channel 41 Productions, because this big promoter showed it to everyone that stopped by his office om business)!!! The Production Values of the song-videos you collect and watch depends on so many different things, that it would behoove ESSENCE to thoroughly exploit as many of them as practical in their future bookings; your SHOW can be good enough to disguise any musical- or talent-shortcomings, while growing a better- or well-organized local fan-base, that by bringing more folks to your bookings will equal higher- and better-paying gigs as you mature as a group, or change-out various artists as needed.

https://www.facebook.com/oldstagehands/photos/a.1375675492750537/1375675312750555/?type=3&theater

Following a performer around with what amounts to a big flashlight sounds easy, and probably looks easy too, if you watch while it's being done. Well, it ain't; and your lack of ability is most immediately apparent to the other operators who can make those first outings tough on you if they wish. That's when those relationships first begin to pay back dividends. The lighting director will be less aware of your foibles because the angle from which he is observing is a bad one; the audience even less able to see anything of what is going on. Your buddies can cover for your short-comings, and try to talk you through the rough spots. You'd better be able to take a ration of good-natured ribbing about it too! Watching an experienced operator while the show is going on is one of the best ways to get a heads-up on many of the subtleties that can take years to acquire. If you show the proper respect to his situation, you can ask questions and get helpful answers during the show. This exchange is doubly instructive because you observe the mysterious operations while in direct correspondence to actions occurring on the stage. Sometimes the cuing is coming through a biscuit(a small portable speaker) and you see that much more clearly how his responses co-ordinate with what is taking place. The respect part is something that you must learn about too, in order to understand; when to ask your questions so that they are not bothersome, distracting or downright disastrous; being aware that the presence of the headset sometimes means others are hearing everything or aware of your presence in the booth. Few apprentice operators ever spend that much time doing this; many experienced operators are glad they don't!

Phillip DeNise: ever change the hot carbons? 3rd paragraph from PREFACE to "Work For It, Baby!":Writers are frequently counseled to write about what they know. This writer knows spotlights better than anything else he was exposed to while in his secret world. What I know about them, if taken alone, would provide the content for an exhaustive technical manual. If we begin to consider how I learned what I know, a process then becomes the subject of the manual. Describing that process is most naturally facilitated by making constant reference to actual experiences that I had while learning to operate this specific piece of equipment.

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autumn-elwood · 7 years ago

Text

A Study in Invigorating Description

This is a prompt list. Please vote in the ask box. Please. I've worked on this for several days. Please. Just write a number between 1 and 20. Please.

Also available on Blogger

Enjoy! (I'm exhausted. Send coffee.)

1. When I was younger I always thought I was pretty hot shit. I could write stories and draw pictures that could move even my toughest classmates to tears. As an adult, I came to the stunning realization that I was not, in fact, the hot shit I thought I was. My first manuscript did not even make it past the publishers and my other attempts fared no better. It was not, however, because I lacked talent. One man told me my writing was great but I lacked references. Why should I risk publishing your work if I don’t know if it will tank or not, he told me. It’s not worth the risk.

Since then I have set my book career aside to earn myself some small time fame. I am now a journalist for a local paper.

“Clyde? What are you thinking about? The ask-column is due by 17:00! Hurry your ass up!”

“Almost done, Grace. I just need to complete some small corrections,” I hollered back. Grace did not reply.

One day I’m going to make it big with a novel that’s going to knock everyone’s socks off. Those damn publishers are going to regret the day they turned down the brilliant writing of Clyde Palmer.

“Wipe that damn smirk off your face Palmer and get to editing!”

“Yes, Grace.”

I hate that woman. 2. Patrick Delaney will freely admit he is slightly terrified of his daughter. She is a skinny little thing of thirteen with no weight training to speak of, that can lift things that would give him trouble. Don’t get him wrong. He still loves his little princess but seeing her lift two twenty-four packs of water bottles at the same time would make any single father break a sweat. He was finally getting used to her unnatural strength when she dent a semi’s hood that had been careening toward a small boy and herself.

When that happened, Patrick did what every reasonable person would do in that situation; he fainted.

3. Humans, in my experience, are odd and violent creatures. Many of them strive for individualism while attacking anyone and anything they perceive as different from themselves. Quite the paradox.

My name is Venxiaqle and I am not from this planet. I am an explorer from a small planet on the far ends of the Milky Way galaxy. After landing on Earth, or Terra Prime as it is called on my homeworld, I was quite thankful to have been born with my shape-shifting ability, that I inherited from my father. Without it, I fear my new earthling companion, William, would have attacked me worse. He was quite terrified when I crashed my ship on a strip of his grandparents’ grape orchard.

Despite our rocky start, I am grateful to have found a native to help me detail the wildlife of ‘Earth’ and assist me in blending in with the planet's dominating species, the human. I just wish he would call me by my actual name, instead of the diminutive, Vinney.

4. I breathed heavily as I scaled the desolated parking complex, dragging my companion up. Mandy was frightened and apologetic, muttering unintelligently about how it was all her fault. I wanted to smack her but I was afraid her already weakened jaw wouldn’t be able to take the force. Most of the flesh in that area had already decomposed and the only thing keeping it attached was some discolored skin and her muscles.

The zombies after us were my fault. The hunters were Mandy’s. Both of us were simultaneously at fault and victims of our circumstances. Mandy had been turned and had kept her mind while I was in love with her.

“Amy, please just leave me behind,” she pleaded. “You need to escape.”

“Not without you, honey,” I told her. “Never without you. We said death ‘till us part and you’re still kicking even if you aren’t breathing, sweetie.”

“You’re an idiot, Amy,” she muttered as she held me tighter, rubbing her oily head into the crook of my neck as I hoisted us above the ledge of one of the parking levels.

“That’s why you love me,” I laughed as I tossed a homemade explosive at our pursuers, zombie and human alike. At one time I would have felt bad for all of the people I just massacred but now I felt only relief. Fire slowed down the zombies and charred humans couldn’t shoot us or be forced to join the ranks of our undead pals.

I heard the cock of a shotgun.

“Fuck.”

5. My neighbor, Rena, scares me. I often see her storming down the corridors of our apartment complex with murder written on her face. The few times I have heard her speak, she was yelling and cursing like the world had personally insulted her. I do not know if I am more scared of her or for her. Sometimes I just want to ask her what’s wrong. How’s your blood pressure? Can I do anything to help you?

“What the fuck do you want, bitch?”

“Nothing Rena!” I whimpered as she passed me that afternoon of September 12th.

Her eyes narrowed dangerously in my direction. Oh my god. What did I do? Is she going to kill me? Why? Oh, I’m so dead. God, help me.

“How the fuck do you know my name, round face?”

Round face? I hugged my chubby body subconsciously. Why couldn’t she have continued to call me bitch like she does like every other chick on this row? What did I say to warrant a nickname?

“I heard the landlord yelling at you when you moved in,” I whispered.

Rena looked pissed.

“Stupid son of a bitch. Can’t keep his mouth shut,” she muttered mutinously. “Anyways, what’s your name, round face?”

“Um, Lucy…”

Rena gave me a stiff nod before she stomped off to her flat. I clutched my heart and sank to the floor. Well, that was over, thank the lord.

6. Sometimes the things we love the most hurt us the most. That was very true for me. I stared in horror as a large shadow towered over me like a running spider. Like hail from the sky, the books rained down on me, leaving no inch unbruised. I whimpered and pushed the heavy novels off me only to be assaulted by four more books.

“Oh shit,” an unfamiliar male voice shouted. “Are you alright?”

“Is that you, God?” I muttered unironically.

“Not the god you’re talking about.”

I threw the tomes off me.

“What?!”

“Kidding,” a man with caramel skin snickered. HIs eyes were black like the void. He seemed like the kind of guy that if he were a fictional character people way younger than him would be screaming, “My son, I will protect you!”

“Hug me.”

“What?”

I should not have said that.

7. When I became a villain I did not sign up to be a parent. Usually, when you think villain, you think terrorizing the public and world domination, which is what I signed up for, not trying to get some twelve-year-old some help.

My nemesis, Star Child, had been kicking my proverbial ass for months when I realized he was in fact twelve.You would think I would be offended that my arch enemy was a pre-teen but I was in reality, horrified. I had held a twelve-year-old boy above an acid tank. I had thrown him into several buildings. I had broken his arm. He wasn’t even in high school and he was fighting supervillains. Oh my god.

Next time we fought, I handcuffed him to a chair and gave him some fruit slices.

“Why are you not in school?” I began. “Your grades are important, Star Child. Even if you choose to pursue hero work after you complete your education, you still need to be able to get a job. Also, you are twelve. You should not be going up against supervillains at your age. Small crime maybe but supervillains… No.”

The boy blinked rapidly. Several times he opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.

Finally, he settled on a very intelligent, “What?”

I scowled at him and put my hands on my hips.

“KId, do not throw away your life for a payless job. Being a hero is noble and very rewarding but it doesn’t pay the bills. Besides, what would your parents say f they knew you were fighting crime instead of doing your homework.

Dead? Fuck. Who’s watching this kid if he gets away with this? I need to adopt this kid stat. Wait, no. I can’t. I’m a villain He’s my nemesis. I really shouldn’t.

Fuck it. I’m going to adopt this kid.

8. Two days ago, Daddy finished building me so I look like a normal little boy. Yesterday, Daddy was arrested for villain activity. Today, Mommy’s still scared of me. She doesn’t know what to do with me. My energy levels are low and my water tank is near empty as a result of me sobbing as I watched Daddy be arrested on television. Daddy hooked me up to the internet and the internet says villains are evil. I hate Daddy. He made Mommy sad and scared.

I don’t think he told Mommy I have to eat. Another reason I hate Daddy now is because he left Mommy with the burden of taking care of me all by herself.

“Mommy, I’m hungry,” I whispered as we watch Daddy’s arrest for the 767th time. She hadn’t eaten since it happened. I hope taking care of me will remind her even though I scare her. I wish I knew why Mommy was scared of me. Maybe then, I could fix it.

“What?” she stuttered out in alarm. She flinched seeing how close I was.

“I’m hungry, Mommy. We haven’t eaten since yesterday and we haven’t slept. I’m tired.”

She hugged herself and looked away from me. Her long glossy black locks were a mess and her dark circles were unhealthy pronounced. She looked pale and broken like a porcelain doll that had slipped off its display shelf. I wanted to hug her but I knew any physical action of comfort I could offer would only make things worse. My body was so cold.

“Don’t call me that,” she sobbed, voice cracking.

“Mommy–”

“Chester, I’m not your mom. Evan― your dad―started making you when we found out I was infertile,” she wiped a few stray tears away, straightening herself like a soldier preparing for battle. “Frankly, I never approved and based off what happened yesterday, he… he started working with villains to get the parts to make you

“I found a letter in his journal. They only agreed to fund him if they could use you later. I… I don’t know what to do. I just know I can’t handle being your mother. I just can’t, knowing what they’re going to use you for. I can’t let myself get attached to you.”

I felt tears build in my eyes. “ I don’t want to be a villain. I don’t want to hurt you. I want to be a hero. I want to stop people like Daddy from hurting other people!”

She looked at me like a shattering wine glass and lunged forward, pulling me into a tight embrace.

“I’m sorry, Chester. I’m sorry,” she wailed.

The meaning of her apology evaded me but those words and her arms made me feel something I had yet to feel in my two days of existence; safe. My resolve to become a hero cemented itself into my programming. I would become the strongest, kindest hero and no one, not Daddy and not anyone else would ever hurt Mommy, or anyone else, like this again. I would not allow it.

9. It’s 1:00 am and I should be asleep but I’m not. What my father said early this evening echoes in my head.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” he said as he pulled me into his unfamiliar arms.

I do not understand why he apologized. This is hardly the first time he has said I have ruined his life. This is just the first time he has said it so blatantly. He has never said sorry before so I am confused on why he is now. Maybe Mom told him he had to. I wouldn’t be surprised.

I’m tired of pondering this but it won’t leave me alone. Hearing him say that should have made me sad or mad or something but I hardly blinked. I just went to my room and did my homework.

“What are you doing up?” I heard my brother ask from my door.

“I could ask you the same question, Peter.”

He walked over to my bed and sat down near my feet.

“He should know better than to say things like that to us, to you, Eliza. He’s an adult.”

“He’s a child who never grew up. He was just throwing a tantrum because my opinion didn’t fall in line with his.

He clenched his fists in his lap and growled.

“That doesn’t make it any better, that doesn’t excuse him.”

I breathed out a laugh.

“I know but there’s nothing we can do. We just have to deal with it.”

Peter threw his hands in the air, his face turning red with anger.

“We shouldn’t have to deal with it,” he whisper-shouted.

“I know,” I sighed, my heavy eyes sliding shut as slipped into oblivion.

10. I’m sitting on the cool itchy grass of summer, staring at the inky night sky. Around me, couples and families sit on picnic blankets, on the edge of their seats staring up at the glittering heavens in anticipation. I am alone.

Boom! The first firework explodes in a cascade of reds, blues, and golds.

Many times when people think of fireworks, they think of smiling children running around with sparklers, a kiss between lovers under the vivacious colors, hope. I do not think of these things. I think of how a firework can parallel loneliness. The unexploded firework being launched into the sky is like me when I say everything’s wonderful and amazing, and I don’t need anyone to be happy.

The explosion is when it all comes crashing down. So many tumultuous feelings breaking free of their bottle. The furious roar of red unrighteous anger covering up the fear. The endless chasms of blue sorrow and hopelessness. The festering and blistering like greens of envy. I hate fireworks but here I am watching them again, my emotions on full display to my empty eyes.

It is truly pathetic.

11. Veronica had always been a risk taker so when her friend Barry dared her to spend the night in the abandoned house on 6th street, she hadn’t said no. She told Barry that his dare was a bit cliche but she hadn’t said no.

The abandoned building on 6th was practically a public danger. It had been sealed off in the sixties but was much older than that. The right corner of the place’s roof was caved in and the structural integrity of the place was poor. The place was infested with rats and bugs of all sorts. There was illegible graffiti throughout the rotten walls and few had dared step foot in it since the murder five years ago. Regrettably, the murder had revived the urban legend that the place was haunted.

Veronica thought those rumours were bullshit but Barry believed in them wholeheartedly. Probably the reason he chose this dare, she thought with an internal scoff.

She carefully laid her stuff in the middle of the floor of what she thought may have once been a dining room. She slowly lowered herself onto the floor, wincing at every creak of the ratty wooden floor. So far she hadn’t found any evidence of ghosts but she hadn’t really ventured past the first floor. To be honest, she was more scared of finding a living person in the house than an incorporable being of post-human consciousness. She crossed her fingers and went to bed.

Her blood was pumping with excitement which made nodding off very difficult. Urban exploration was illegal after all. She felt herself drifting off when a young voice cut through her drowsiness.

“What are you doing here?”

Her eyes snapped open. Veronica barely held back a scream. Above her was a floating young girl, her long hair seemingly unaffected by gravity with her eyeballs gouged out leaving bloody black holes in their place.

Veronica struggled backward, incoherent noises exiting her mouth in panic. The specter followed after her and stopped as Veronica made impact with a wall.

“Hi! I’m Erie,” she beamed, obliviously unaware of Veronica’s terror. She wondered if the ghost could see. “What’s your name?”

“Veronica,” she managed to squeak out before fainting.

12. Kain couldn’t help but feel bored for some odd reason. He honestly shouldn’t be feeling bored with the number of adventures Cyrus and himself had been on together since they took up the pseudonyms, Castor and Pollux, and joining the cavern of Hermes.

They had made tons of new friends in Eris, Apollo, Thanatos, and Persephone. They had raided a slave auction and dug up objects and tomes from the buried pre-rest buildings in the dunes of the Estival Desert. They had even met up with Lady Alma to make sure she was getting on alright, for crying out loud. Kain was safe from Lord Zafar. Cyrus was safe from Lord Zafar. They got to transcribe books and sell them in Apple-polish market.

Why was he so bored?!

“Um… Are there any titles you would recommend?” a familiar voice queried.

He looked up to see a man with short blond hair and a scruffy beard. He looked familiar too. Had he met this man before?

“Oliver Twist’s pretty―,” he began before cutting himself off, the man’s identity becoming shockingly clear.

“You bastard,” Kain growled, eyes filled with rage.

The bastard blinked in surprise, unsure of how to respond to Kain’s sudden insult.

“Pollux,” he heard Cyrus say with a sharp a sharp warning before making apologies to the customer.

Kain clenched his fists, his anger rising even higher after realizing Cyrus didn’t recognize the bastard in front of them. And even worse, the no good lying son of a bitch didn’t recognize them either. Kain threw a hand in front of his brother in a clear sign for the younger boy to be quiet. Cyrus’ voice faded off and he stared at his brother nervously, wondering what Kain was going to say.

“How dare you show your face here in front of me after what you did!” Kain sneered.

The man looked flustered as he glanced around the market at the stares they were attracting. “Sir, I believe you have the wrong―”

Kain slammed his hands on the front of the stall, cutting the man off.

“How dare you show your face after you abandoned your wife and children to the mercy of Lord Zafar!” he screamed, a mixture of hysteria and anger coloring his words

Cyrus gasped as the meaning of those words sunk in.

“Kain,” the man proclaimed in shock.

Kain slugged him straight in the nose.

13. I was fairly young when I first asked my mom why she chose the Merriam for my name. She gave me a smile before pulling a tattered paperback dictionary from the living room shelf.

“I’ve always admired the Señores Merriam, mi hijo. Not for any of their actions or beliefs. To be honest, I've never much looked into their history but I admire them for creating a book full of meanings. One of the first books your abuela bought for me when I began my schooling here, was this dictionary,” she remarked wistfully. “We didn't have much money then so when she gave it to me, I was so excited.”

Mom gave a little laugh.

“It was my first book in the start of a grand collection but never mind all that, Merriam. You were asking about your name. I gave you the name Merriam because I wanted you to have an understanding of both your heart and mind.”

It was such a sweet story that at the time I was so proud of my name. I later grew to hold my name in my heart with an odd amount of awe and resentment. Being called “Dictionary Boy” does not always inspire positive feelings.

“Yo, Mary, whatcha thinkin’?”

I looked over to my friend, Bryce, in disdain. Besides the association with dictionaries, Merriam has more often been a girls’ name than a boys’, men only finding Merriam in their names as a surname.

“I told you never to call me that,” I hissed.

Bryce cackled obnoxiously. “Oops. I forgot, man.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I didn’t,” he affirmed with a smirk.

Pulling a cigarette from his pocket, he put the unlit stick in his mouth and proceeded to take out a rubix cube without lighting the thing.

“If you’re going to put them in your mouth at least light them. Who are you? Augustus Waters?”

“Don’t make references to books you've never read, Mary,” Bryce muttered distractedly. “I’m trying to quit.”

“You’re trying to quit now, months after I’ve stopped lecturing you about the health risks posed by cigarettes,” I questioned skeptically.

“Yep. Better late than never.”

This came across as bizarre to me. Bryce was stubborn so I didn’t get why he had chosen to change his habits now. After a minute of me staring at him and him trying and failing to solve the rubix cube, he said something that made me almost topple down the stairs.

“Adrie’s pregnant.”

“Fuck.”

He looked up at me and shrugged.

“It’s not that bad. We’re in college so they can transfer to online courses before it gets to the point where they shouldn’t be straining themselves anymore.”

“You’re right, I suppose,” I agreed, still reeling.

Adrie was a pretty responsible person so it was kind of a shock that Bryce had managed to get them pregnant but then again, condoms did break.

“Would you like to be the godfather?”

“You’re joking, right?”

“No. Adrie likes you.”

Adrie likes everyone.”

Bryce put the rubix cube down and extracted the cancer stick from his mouth.

“Surprisingly, no. Adrie smiles and talks to everyone but the two of us are their only friends. Well, I’m their boyfriend but you get the point.”

“Very touching but I think you could find a much better choice for a godfather.”

Bryce snorted. “We’ll see.”

Yeah, no.

14. The room was warm and smelt of singed turkey. I blinked blearily at my surroundings. Where was I? My apartment? No, much too clean. A friend’s? No, none of my friends could afford a turkey. Rubbing sleep from my eyes, I also noted that much of the furniture was too expensive for my apartment or anyone else I know.

How did I get here? I looked around for a door before landing my eyes on the thing in question.

It was painted white with a gold peephole. The deadbolt was broken and the knobs were unlocked. I felt a deep seeded feeling of dread in my gut.

Did I break in here, I asked myself.

Most people don’t have to ask themselves these kinds of questions but I take some anxiety medication that causes some disinhibition and memory loss, and I am prone to making stupid decisions regardless of my state of awareness. What day was it?

The aroma of the turkey caused the date to click with me.

A scream of shocked terror had me holding my ears in pain.

“Who are you?” a feminine voice cried. “Why are you in my house?”

Then, like a dumbass, my chosen reply was a slurred:

“Happy Thanksgiving!”

15. The lazy sunlight crept into my apartment window, sharply hitting my eyes. I shift against my soft couch cushions, a warm weight melting into my side.

“Lee, you awake?”

He mumbled unintelligently but didn’t stir. I held him tighter in my arms. I never wanted this moment to end but like all beautiful moments that block out the horribleness of reality, it has to end.

My name is Jay, codename, Vitality and I am a hero. My boyfriend, Lee, is a villain named Lord Decay. We live in a society of people with metahuman abilities where few elect to utilize those abilities. The few that do mainly use their powers to help maintain our society or tear it down.

Lee wants to tear it down and rebuild it from scratch. He wants to change the world and he grew to believe the only way to inspire that change was to make people listen. The people don’t like being told to change. The people have too much pride in the society we created following the rise of powers.

People without powers are left isolated and degraded. People with stereotypically villainous powers are abused and treated like shit while those gifted with heroic-like powers are praised and treated like gods.

Our society needs to change but the way Lee has chosen to go about bringing that change is wrong.

One time I asked him why he didn’t go to school to become a hero, to prove society wrong. To prove people with villainous powers can be heroes too. That powers don’t make the person, the person makes the powers.

“No place would accept me,” he said. “When my powers activated… I… I was playing with my cars and they began to turn to dust… Everything my hands touched turned to dust. I started screaming and my mom came in with a worried expression

“She fell to her knees and told me to calm down but I couldn't…”

Tears pooled in his eyes and his voice began to choke out every word.

“She pulled me into a hug and then she started screaming and pushed me away… On her back where my hands had been. God, there was so much blood, Jay and I couldn’t call for help. The phone fell apart in my hands. She was already dead by the time my dad got home,

“He sent me away. He couldn’t handle knowing his own five-year-old son had killed his wife.”

Lee stared down at his hands.

“I still can’t control my powers. At any time I could accidentally destroy this bus. I could hurt you… I could hurt you. Who would want someone like me to be a hero?”

“I would,” I whispered.

His smile looked like fractured glass.

“It might be too late for me to be a hero now.

16.Sometimes the drifting apart of a friendship is gradual. Sometimes it’s quick. For Jane and Mels’ friendship, Jane felt like she was pulling a loose thread tighter only to feel tears of frustration prickle at the corners of her eyes as she saw the thread loosen again, occasionally losing more stitches. She was stuck looking on because somewhere along the way she had lost the needle in the sands of Kronos’ beach.

“Hey, Jane,” Mels said as she sat down. “How are you?”

“Great. How was your morning?" Jane replied, trying to focus on the conversation.

It was so hard to focus these days. Mels’ reply was negative but Jane couldn’t register the contents and everything sounded thick like her head was underwater. Jane murmured vaguely while Mels turned on her phone, scrolling through her messages.

The silence was stifling for Jane but she didn’t know what to say. Should she ask after her sister? Who her latest crush is on? A school thing?

“Finals are coming soon,” she settled on. “Which are you dreading?”

Mels glanced up from her phone, distaste clear on her face.

“Jay, don’t get me started on finals. You know I’m not prepared for any of them.”

Personally, Jane felt Melane was exaggerating but she did not interrupt her friend’s tirade.

“I guess chemistry,” Mels concluded after several minutes of listing why she thought each final was going to be difficult. Jane nodded, not sure what to say. The bell rang for class. Jane did not see Melane again until the next morning.

17. Joseph had been Chase’s roommate since their freshman year of college. After three years he couldn’t really call them friends but they were closer than mere acquaintances. Chase was not the kind of guy that was easy to get to know. He was a stubborn, rude, asshole but Joseph liked him okay. He had a low tolerance for bullshit and messing around which was basically all Joseph liked to do. They balanced each other out that way.

Joseph liked to think the reason Chase had such a low tolerance for bullshit was that he liked to shove his own behind a counter and never speak about it. That was probably kind of unhealthy but he was no therapist so he just shrugged his shoulders like “what can you do”. Today was one of those days where Joseph actually got to see some of basket case’s bullshit and found himself stumped.

“I’m not going to be here tonight. I’m going to help my dad check my mom out of the hospital.”

Joseph spit out his drink and looked up from his show.

“Your mom was in the hospital! Since when?”

Chase grimaced, probably more at the idea of touching the sticky soda that had been sprayed from Joseph’s mouth than the question.

“Six months ago.”

Joseph felt sick. Did Chase say something about this while he wasn’t paying attention?

“What happened? Coma? Cancer?”

Chase got a peculiar expression on his face like he was debating on whether to answer the question or smack his roommate for being insensitive.

“She had a mental breakdown.”

“Holy fuck.”

18. Matt heard crying from through the baby monitor. It’s too early for this, he thought in despair as the fog of sleep seeped out of him.

“Janielle, could you―” he mumbled, frowning as his arm hit the cold sheets beside him.

Had she already started to make her way to the twins’ room? He sat up slowly, blanket slipping off his shoulders causing him to shiver in the frigid morning air. He scratched his fluffy brown hair scanning the room. The crying persisted. Maybe both the twins were up. He should go―

There was a note on Janielle’s pillow. She probably had to go to work early, he thought, grabbing the note, making his way down to the nursery. Halfway down the hall, he froze.

Matt,

I’m sorry but I can’t do this anymore. I wasn’t even sure I could handle being a mom of one but of twins, I just can’t. And Matt, you’re sweet but before we found out I was pregnant, I was going to break up with you. You’re a great guy but you’re just not the great guy for me. I’ll send money for Bernice and Aaron when I can. I love them and you dearly but I am afraid I can’t be there for you three.

Love,

Janielle

Matt felt numb. He robotically went up to one of the cribs and picked up Bernice. Aaron, miraculously, had not woken up.

“What’s wrong, Burn-Burn,” he whispered feeling like he was choking on every word. “I-is it Mommy? Did you see her leave?”

Bernice continued to wail. Matt sank to the floor, cradling his daughter close.

“I’m sorry. Daddy’s so sorry Burn-Burn,” he croaked.

He didn’t know what he was doing. He didn’t know what he was going to do.

He was alone.

19. I sat down at a table, a trusty trash can by my side. My sharp blades glittered smartly as I swiftly cut ovals and triangles into a dead tree sheet in the shape of a circle folded multiple times like a two-dimensional cone. I unfolded it. Snowflake decoration twenty-five complete and ready for hanging.

“Hey, Clarence. Nice snowflakes.”

I paused in my work and looked awkwardly up at who had spoken.

“Um… Why thank you, Karen. Well, um… how are you doing?” I floundered.

“Great,” she beamed. “What are you doing for Christmas?”

“Nothing really,” I muttered looking at her shoulder.

I could literally hear her smile grow.

“Fantastic. I'm having a holiday Christmas party for everyone at work at my house on Christmas Eve. Would you like to come?”

I didn't want to go.

“Yes.”

She clapped excitedly.

“Sweet. Do you need my address?”

“No. I still have it on my phone. How many people are coming so far?”

Karen looked downcast.

“Well, only you and I so far,” she perked up. “But I'm sure lots of others are going to come too.”

Well, there goes my chance of skipping out.

“See you at the party, Karen.”

“See you there, Clarence,” she winked at me.

20. I live with Father and Mother in my dreams, although they are not my mother and father, those are simply their names. They are married but they are not in love.

Father once told me that Aunt and Uncle decided that he and Mother should be joined together in holy matrimony forever. However, Father when narrating these events to me always pronounces the forever as foe-ever. I can understand why Father might view Mother as an enemy. They are completely opposite forces of nature, after all.

Mother is small, poised, and incredibly neat. She wears her white hair straight down, not a single hair out of place. She dresses in a wedding gown so clean and refined, lacking the creases made by clothes on a body that it is as if she is not wearing the dress at all. She is often quiet and seldom speaks. When she does her voice is clipped, cold, and cruel like the breaking off a glass.

Father has messy black hair and wears a rumpled burgundy suit. He is loud and very kind.

Mother rules the house. She keeps the house so spotless it is devoid of life. It is wretched but I enjoy living with them when I sleep.

“Ernest,” Mother calls. “When are you going to come find us? Father and I grow tired of waiting for you.”

Father laughed. “The only thing we can agree on. When are you coming, Nestling?”

I blinked. “I don't know where the house is.”

“Do not,” Mother corrects flatly as if she cannot even summon annoyance to respond to my stupidity.

Father rolls his eyes at her and grabs my hand.

“Well then, sweet Nestling, I'll simply have to fetch you. Where do you find yourself now?”

Smiling widely, I whisper, “Broomstock’s orphanage in Miller’s Hollow.”

Father frowns and hums vaguely.

“That's so far Nestling, amusement peppering his voice. “But Mother and I will make the journey to retrieve you.”

Mother leaned forward and muttered, “Be grateful, boy. If it were up to me, we'd leave you there and simply wait for your lazy bum to make its way to us.”

“Oh, hush, Mother,” Father laughed. “She likes you. She would have grown very impatient and ran ramped to find you if it was up to her.”

I smiled. How lovely, my friends wished to come to whisk me away. Too bad they were only the products of a child’s fancies.

“I look forward to your arrival, Father, Mother.”

“See you soon,” Father cried.

“Farewell,” Mother muttered grudgingly.

I open my eyes to the wooden beams of the ceiling, cold seeping into my bones. If only they would come.

Regular prompts are also still open. I'll try to get a poem out tomorrow but no promises.

#autumn writes #personal list #do not use #fiction #writing #coffee #need sleep

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