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blackangelism · 9 months ago

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Born to Die

hey, so, basically, i was writing this fanfiction called born to die based upon kurt cobain and an original character called nirvana lacey anhedönia and, well, i never finished it and i think i’ve lost the inspiration to. but, i still want it to see the light of day because i think it’s beautiful (sort of). so, here we are.

Gibson Girl.

1480 words.

July 6, 1981.

Aberdeen.

Washington.

[ You wanna… ]

Lovelace.

That’s what I’m fucking carving into my arm. With that oh-so-American size of the knife, the cut was deep and my handwriting as unhinged as it could be, probably and possibly worse than the cruel (upon me!) variety of forms it takes; like it was in my journal (I’ve always adored the copulation of the words probably and possibly as it tends so well to my seeming lack of sincerity and existential confusion), but worse, worse. Tingling all over I was in not an aroused, sexual way—but in the way it tingles when the high becomes scary, when the swirly faces start to scratch at you and when your belly feels scarily pregnant (everyone whom I know wants children; I wonder, am I sociopathic or a prophetess? Probably both, they’re primarily synonymous anyway). I knew so damnéd well I was addicted to this shit, the little, translucent, hallucinatory blotters (I prefer ’em trippy on both the outside and in, and pink; but I’m an addict! I’ll take whatever anyways) I get by shaking my ass to the guy whose name I do not wish to have my married brain clouded with. He still cut into my head like the knife that was working with all it’s effort and my inputs carving that v on my plump, ripe forearm. I was addicted as fuck; and I fucking loved it. At the very fucking least, I was pumping out poems like a heroine of the fifties. It’s what it was: the fifties had Sylvia Plath and the eighties had me. Downright iconic. The blood by now—I felt like a lamb, but I knew I was the dragon—was flooding my lap on which that forearm of mine was settled. I apologise if my writing, grammer, thoughts, anything else is fucked up in this or don’t make sense—I’m drugged up into Cloud Nineteen (ten blotters, two packs of Marlboro Reds over this evening).

I know I sound fucking insane and I probably am, and I treat myself to pain Virgin Mary couldn’t have dreamt off—but, I promise I’m not mean. Just a hard, excessive exterior and a tight, eager posterior in this dollhood of mine. Does that even make sense…? I don’t fucking know shit… “Ah, fuck…” I whispered with the most disappointing one I could muster when I fucked up the second l of Lovelace.

Lovelace, Lovelace… Great, I have to recall him.

The fucker who got me into this.

Norwegian trucker in India who was friends with my greaser pa, Norman Anhedönia, called Gibson Lovelace. The chap had forty years worth of oxygen wasted in his shallow breathing (he always breathed shallow, even when he came; I had noticed), a nine-incher monster of a dick, pedophilia, a drunkard wife and an obsession with me. I’d always been what Nabokovian terms would term nymphet, and I do say I’m split on it. I’m a shit daughter and a demon child, or am I? Maybe I’m just depressed and suicidal, or I’m fucking divine and the reincarnation of Eve meant to meet her Adam through a senseless act of violence upon myself (I didn’t know at the time, but I was fucking foreshadowing; go me.). Every girl needs a senseless act of violence properly upon herself but rarely upon the other to discover her one and only cult leader.

Anywho, Gibson led me into his truck away from my father who was too busy cleaning his shades listening to Elvis on the records: January of ’77, I was seven going to turn eight in the November of that year. He fucked me raw, smashed my head so hard into the steering wheel that I bled (I was questioning too much), kissed my cuts and made me promise I wouldn’t pick up a knife again but didn’t do shit about what I actually felt; he told me to stick my tongue out and placed this thin translucent sheet of pink from a little booklet he kept in his glovebox. And I decided that I loved it. I’m at fault, I’m at fault… Fuck Waheguru.

I’m finished. I squeezed my arm as hard as I could, the blood spraying over the marble floor (I had tucked the rug away; I can’t let Mumma see). My incisors with the utmost force to keep my vocal chords at bay dug into my chapped bottom lip and drew blood there too. It trickled down to my chin and came to nirvana at my lap resting amongst the other red molecules; it left a ferric taste on the tip of my tongue, slightly bitter and quite sweet. Bittersweet. Blood, blood, blood, blood, blood… Blood, everywhere. Gibson would’ve rubbed it all over my nipples and told me to lick it up like it was his sperm all over my asscheeks or, well, just cheeks. I did have quite big tits for an almost twelve-year-old, I must admit… I’ve always had more estrogen and my estrogen was also more sensitive: susceptible. Susceptible to manipulation, fuckery, religion, what not… Finally, I could fucking feel something except for the stimuli of my g-spot and the irritation in my nostrils that still blossomed when I chainsmoked indoors or that itching feeling in me when I go too much time without my LSD. I have this delusion that I only pump men good or pump out good stuff when I’m pumped on those little squares: He said that LSD would be good for me when I told him that I write; I’ve been pumpin’ poetry for my baby ever since. I hate children, and I sincerely wish that all babies die alongside their parents and the doctors and the nurses and the medical’s parents and me…

My disorders kicked in (Borderline Personality Disorder, majorly untreated) and I fucking panicked. After so much shit, I fucking panicked. Panicked. Jumping up almost to slam my head to the sink I was cutting up like ham under, I had to hold onto the sink to make myself stand actually. I slowly experienced my hand creep up to switch on the faucet (like Gibby did to the faucet in my eyes everytime he crossed my neurocircuitry) and my other arm (I’m right-handed) creep to wash the blood from Lovelace off. Thankfully, I had a few bottles of peroxide, a pack of Reds, a babydoll dress all set up, razor and men’s shaving cream, my skincare, makeup—all of that set up, and the shower prepped as well. Today, I was to die.

The same year as Gibson’s arrival to me, I spiralled and ended up flinging my curvy body down the roof of some pretentious hotel in Seattle. I didn’t die, unfortunately. Then, well, I was transferred to a crazy people place for four years until I got out in March of ’81 (this year!) equally, if not more, fucked up. I had glowed so much surrounded by my little hellspawns, my creatures... My paradise is dying in the arms of nobody. But, I couldn’t care when the blotters kicked in and helped my cerebrum in distorting so fucking shittily my face into some eldritch horror that passed the likes of werewolves mid-transformation and golems. I giggled manically at the twistings of my eyes into the hair and my ears into halo, my mouth stretched through the giggle was transmuted to the petrified image of a dog and a lady and what fucking not. Oh, I need my pen… Pen, pen, pen, pen,... pen!

The lad

I tried to write into the journal page I had kept open on the small settee of my bathroom that I had also made sure to drip some of my essence onto (not like that, pervs; the blood, I’m saying) but my mouth wouldn’t co-operate with my cerebellum or my cerebrum. The giggles just wouldn’t stop and they just got more and more distorted like guitars fitted into amps and amps and shredding. I fell back on the ground, it cushioned by my ass, and held my head in my arms, shaking my head as if to curate outside of my all the fogginess and to shake out of my trip. I wanted to write, write! Not whatever the fuck this was. My eyes were squeezed so hard, I was crying. And, I couldn’t fucking stop laughing like a shitshow.

“Oh, God, stop, stop, stop, just fucking stop…!” Hadn’t even realised I was sobbing but in that moment that epiphany hit me like a freight train (whatever the fuck a freight train is; I just picked up on the writing tool from whatever I read using this). My arm was still bleeding, smearing blood over my cheeks; my lip was still cut from my teeth, bleeding the smaller bits too; I was shaking like a fucking banyan leaf in the rainstorms of Wash.

• • •

Strangers.

5010 words.

July 6, 1981.

Aberdeen.

Washington.

[ Don’t talk to strangers, or you might fall in love ]

Even the isolation, deprave, and mesophilia of our fucked-up, Lacey, crazies hospital was better than this drenched, little town. What was better than any of those two fucking disasters, though, was my stance on the railway tracks. Sittin’ there like teke-teke, waitin’ for my gorgeous guts to be smashed over, destroyed, violated, clawed out by the grinders of the train. I’d never seen starry nights—the ladies at Lacey would never have enough testicles to let me watch a shooting star and hope that it crash into me, the fuckin’ meteorite. My years at Cawnpore already were quite less in number, and it eternally was too polluted for us to see something more than the dhruv star and a few other killers; I’d never seen starry nights. According to this astronomical magazine I picked up while the nurses took us out to the local stores of Lacey for us teenage girls to detoxify our battlefields for minds, today was a meteor shower and I was thoroughly intrigued by blazing space rocks in the skies, so I bluffed and fucked my way out of the hospital. My egg and sperm donors did not believe for a major nanosecond that I was cured. At two years of pained age, I was standing in the middle of the gray-like-me roads, conscious of the act; at four, I burnt my pierced earlobe on purpose, using the steam-fuelled iron to; at six, any blade I pranced upon would find it’s metallic way to scent the room in the aroma of my equally metally blood, I only wished for one to kiss those marks and draw about them, to be what the lyre was to Apollo; at eight, this curvy brain of mine finally snapped into her hemispheres and told me to fling my curvy body down the highest story of our hotel. At eight, my suppliers abandoned their Catholic mistake of a dolly into a mental hospital in my Americana birthplace, Lacey.

There, I morphed myself like the blesséd Phoenix, curse, profanity I am into The Mother. Mother Lace, Mother Nirvana, Messiah of thee, and the literary combo of Three. One of the only times I shall ever cherish are my years with those six girls… My girls: my loves, only ones who would ever succeed in enveloping me with so much heat that the outward exterior, the exoskeleton of middle fingers and catty hisses, melts into a puddle of rot beneath me and the inner delicacy of my wretched fragility and mortality is on display for all those mental fuckers to eat.

Needless to say…, I missed my bundle of little women, my packets of compressed, oppressed joy. So, I lay there longing with my arms stretched onward craving hiraeth in the Heavens—now that I look back, it never was hiraeth. I knew exactly what my home was: the browned mental hospital where I spent four formative years of my Jim Morrison's life in. I longed for the hug of my collected daughters, their soft digits brushing my hair as they softly inquired escape from the hellhole I promised to save them from. My girls... I loved them, like the mother they never received. I had promised, I had promised… I was a betrayer. What mother to those girls…

On instinct I experienced my hands reach to the crown of my head, relief coursing through my blood the moment a thorn stung me. Their entity had crafted for me a crown of thorns to relish me as their Lady and Saviour. I did feel blood seep from the pinch, but I stuck my finger between my lips and thrashed my tongue around, gazing at the dying glows of the starry night.

I pretended to be Jesus.

I am Judas, or am I?

I don’t even know what I’m writing. You’re hallucinating while interpreting strange symbols written left-to-right in lead and antimony compounds upon thin, delicate tablet-like structures made of tree sap, so I guess we two are never too far apart in our crazy.

Well, to them (my girls: Laine Jean Ray, Bonita Ana Dios, Aurora May-Belle Long, Theresa Midge Check, Verbena de Baïa Voisin, Margaret Sarah Check), I still remain Yeshua. Yet, I feel a wolf in lamb’s skin as myself; a panther in the throes of the night sky that I stare emptily, tearily, upon. I fake it so real, I am beyond fake (translation: you people are fucking dumb).

In my convulsing tubule of thoughts birthed by my cerebral quality, I failed in my life to notice movement, possibly a metre from me. I was laid over the railway track like a corpse, eyes empty yet body warm for no reason at all. It truly seems bizarre how the movement noticed me neither—maybe dissolved so much in the grief were they that they were as heady as me, as crazy as I! Trapped inside the fever dream of their own thoughts, vowed to never spit it out, bit tongues and summertimes spent in clawing bedsheets and clamping hands over the own lips so as to refrain from the awareness that might spread. That might say…: I am iron. I am usable, extremely so. Exploit me, as if you have not already. Though, I might have not warneth thou… I rot as vigorously as I am used, keep me out in the world and I will break down and become ash of myself. In the velvet night, a puff of air as a sigh crawled out of me, liquid dripping down the corneas of I, ruining not the night (this was to be, I planned to die today for fuck’s sake) but my precious mascara and eyeliner. Oh, how I worked on that lining to accentuate my inherited, unwanted, auto-appreciated felinity. I’d be the prettiest girl in the morgue.

Someday you will ache like I ache.

Anyhow, the shower from the atmosphere had concluded a few minutes prior. And, well, finally, the train I was waiting for to scramble and crumble my guts into nothing but wasted potential, like I already was, had arrived… Only, it arrived wrong. It ran over the steel beside me, beside us (counting in the movement I am). A severe monsoon bummer filled my chest, the void in my heart had been concealed tightly and packed with Lyssa, Eris, what not. I craved to screech at the tyrant Father for his sin, for his fucking disruptive mercy on me—I did not want mercy! I needed death to fuck me like his personal, unpaid, loyal servant-girl; I needed it violent! So, as soon as all registered in my voluminous cerebrum, I recoiled in my pose, resorting to the protection of a foetal position as I screamed out my sobs and muffled them by staining my shaved thighs with my lipstick and drool smelling of minty chew-gum that I chewed last minute, tears of brown-black from my mascara and liner, hitting my head against my knees and punching the bloody rails that I was once moonbathing over until I experienced my knuckles burn and bruise, actual slivers of blood peek through the skin. I continued then too, but was too passionate in my quiet wailing to keep up the aggression.

And, thence, I swiped my tears with my bleeding knuckles, unrealising in my little girl’s misery of the fact, and smeared blood over my eyes and mascara over my blood. By some distance, I could hear some twigs crunching, maybe it was the movement I hadn’t noticed beforehand. When I did notice in that current moment, fear struck my gut like Cupid’s arrow when I had seen Priscilla Presley for the first time in forever. Naturally, a response occurred within the fatty mass of electric muscle in my head and I recoiled within myself, burying my face in my knees that I had pulled to my tits, only my eyes blinking up like a defensing cat—if I had been a cat, my pupils would have shrunken to that reptilian, creepy glare. I saw that the thing was lighting a cigarette, my cravings relit alongside (the appearance of the thing was half-revealed in the dim spark).

Stupidly as I ever could be, I murmured from my coil, “Do you have a light?” However softly I did speak, the boy did hear because it was the death of the night in wherever we were, the railroad was as quiet as could be with the crickets around chirping and inaudible bats may or may not be sauntering about. Dim moonlight that I somedays worshipped (as a witch, I did) proved herself, and I saw him. The first predicament was that he’s cute: blond, ice eyes, hopeless swagger, shaky legs. He paused himself in his trek, and slowly but mildly clumsily, turned to see my form. Perhaps cold moonlight proved her importance to hallucinatory pages of dead sap’s inkéd words of feel-good love. Wow, fuck, I went overboard on there. So, he scrutinised me for a moment, squinting to gaze at me carefully.

I’ll never forget what came out of my future husband’s mouth the first time he spoke a single thing to me…: You look very pretty when you’re crying; tears suit you. I don’t think that I can emphasise the moan that was nearly to escape me at that very moment, it was a shockwave of whatever down my spine to my ladyness. My knees dropped to become flat, just legs, and I did acknowledge the gashes in my doll heart bleeding so vigorously, it matched my swallowed drool.

“You don’t mean that, you’re drunk.”

His honeyed voice, sort of scratchy as I observed he was pubescent and hormonal in his blue jeans, white striped shirt—walked into the room, you know you made my eyes burn!—and black-y jacket he kept open, pushed me to experience the yayo-type, giggly joy of his chuckle, he shook his head in amuséd denial of his drunkenness. He was poetic, he had a slur, he had his thin lips wrapped around a cigarette—shit, I needed them wrapped around mine… And, I loved it. Why the fuck was I enamoured? “You’re a hypocrite,” He paused for a moment, maintaining that smile. Two distinct holes, punctures in muscle, were noticed by thee truly, myself, at that very moment; I felt my ribcaged heart palpitate. “You’re bawling your eyes out here like Virgin Mary.”

“Oh, fuck me, that’s beautiful.” The moan that was slowly and gradually, steadily and irresistibly, mountaineering up my throat finally escaped in the form of this: *Oh, fuck me, that’s beautiful*. Which, I did mean—how could I not mean *this*? I’m not Lisa Rowe, you buzz (although I wish to be—have you not read the sheer charisma produced from the description Kaysen emits of her? She was definitely the prettiest girl in the morgue!).

Hands of his extended to mine, both, and I took them, shakingly wobbling from my psych-out. I felt drunk. As terror-inducin’ it seems, drugs had exhilarated me, no cock of a man who had money this nymphet had onlooked had been left out, I was such a La Lolita for my crazy desires—but I had never had a swig before. Smelling the booze off my falling, twisted guy as he pulled me up from my literal and mental death—I only knew that my heart was hitting at my sinews, she felt a depraved wanderlust. Some wanderlust it was to, like a man in a Prime Minister pose, mark that free, angel Earth mine with maybe a flag (a tattoo) or a hole (a lovebite), something, somewhat. I held onto his shoulders for both metaphorical and literal support, he held onto the curve of the lower back I possessed, though the fabric of his jackie didn’t benefit friction and he kept slipping his arm off accidentally because, one, he adorned too much weight on; two, the fabircs intermingled like our forms, the cheap satin and whatever the fuck his jacket was made of. “Why am I a hypocrite, though?” I finally asked this little blond dude what had been pestering me (I am not to blame for this worthy-of-disdain obsessiveness, I have Borderline Personality Disorder. I am Cool Girl: I am nothing in my soul if not obsessive) for how millennium long. His ocean eyes matched mine for a moment, and he seemed to think through for a momento before he permitted the giggle of a hyena break out of him: Because you’re pretty when you cry, and I’m not.

“Yes, you are.” No hesitation was laced through me, none of that unaware uncertainty that I usually experienced leaking through my tune when I comforted one of my girls—my girls...—and instead was there an ignorant stubbornness. I was always stubborn, but what the fuck? I, having registered in my still plush cerebrum that my crown of thorns (gifted to me by Laine specifically, although all the girls worked on it) had fallen like my Lucifer when I had risen, thence I bent to grab my status, injuring my already injured hand thus further as the thorns pierced and pricked into my skin. And, I didn’t even cry…

He recoiled almost physically at my olden compliment (remember the first dialogue of the previous paragraphed rambling?) and I was due a breakdown of my psyche in that very singular fraction of a minute when my man suddenly perked up, “I only have this cig,”, changing the subject. Yahweh, my knuckles burnt. I ohed a tiny bit, and chuckled, extending one of my quivering, weak limbs and bending to wrap my lipstickéd lips on the ass of that cigarette, same one he took a drag from not fifteen seconds ago. His Atlantic eyes widened for a twiddling momentous, and, possibly and probably in drunken stupor and marijuana heights of his death wish, he giggled—I physically felt my pupils dilate, what the fuck? Maybe it was the nicotine, maybe it was the aftershocks of my tiny-teeny mental breakdown on the rail, maybe it was hisself… Damn, I think I understood Grant so well in that miniscule moment: Heaven is a place on Earth with you.

The world was built for two.

Delusional, I was convinced that it was us two the moment he grabbed the cigarette from me for his chance, and he examined the matte, messy mark of my lip stamped on it.

With the dumbest smile he could muster in my damnéd opinion, this little, blond, territorial, underdeveloped man adjusted his lips on the exact place I had left my shine, suckling it like it was some part of me. He knew what he was doing, I could pluck it from the glitter in his pretty orbs that told me shit he’d never be able to spit out in our tragic, magic relationship of some thirteen years. We kissed in death like we kissed in that moment, he blew smoke into my mouth and I giggled, almost extracting the alcohol of his from the roof of his mouth as my tongue felt her way around. We parted for perhaps, well, a second (I don’t remember the details, I’m writing this after our wedding sex, 1988. We’re in our flight back to Olympia from Honolulu, and he’s sleeping on my tits), and rejoint as I adjusted the angle to kiss-fuck this virginal Cherub better. “Darling, is this your first?”, he nodded, responsive—to be frank, that was adorable...! I’m pretty sure I squeaked out of sheer kiddy excitement, squeezing the sides of his face (cheeks). My grip migrated to around his neck, form bent for he was teenier than I. I didn’t even know his name and we were kissing in the blue dark…

Parting, I only gazed into his oceanic gaze and breathlessly giggled, “Oh, wow, fuck,... That was…, yeah.” A grand total of seven partners (three females, four males) I had engaged in before this merman, and I had never felt myself stolen of breathe ever in my existence after a mere kiss. Possibly was it the intoxication, the nicotine fucking over my senses so that my taste buds tickled with the enriching experience of his glazed cavern, but was it not thrilling, oh Mary! I had enchanted outward the sweetest giggle, and he in his still stupor snuggled his head inside the curve of my shoulder and chest; he was only that much tall. I was not lanky in any aspect, neither I am still—on the flipside, truth is that my mother repeatedly insisted upon me to not drown in my head and force her to onlook, rather to go outside, soak some tan (I am racially brown, thence I don’t require a tan) and run some. I decline profusely, tangling in blankets again and writing what, if discovered, would have positively filed me into the South Sound Behavioral Hospital yet again for a term not of four years now but of God-knows-how-long.

Eventually, I figured: some other day, this nymph may or may not have only prolonged my life now, and I told myself it. By the railway roads were grasses uncared for (like most daughters were; the human was their mother and the stain’d, tall grasses were the lost), we decided unconsciously to sit by those and talk the dimlight of the night off the clouds, to dawn we conversed. As unbelievable as it may sound considering the turbulence not even Athena might have dreamt of that had plagued the twisty courses of my lifetime, I had not sipped upon the liver eater yet: alcohol! With my newfound darling, that was precisely what I did.

We were dwelling inside uncanny synchronisation with our acts: we looked around at the same time, fixated on the same piece of cement, reached to gasp one another’s hands the same moment. I didn’t flinch, neither did the blond darling. Which..., was quite, well, it was especially choking as I... Usually froze at contact of the physique from someone whom I loved. Around this time, with my drink-induced lover, it felt good.

We curled up by grass, against a gray boulder-like structure, perhaps a part of a rotten or demolished building of some sort, debris. There, I suckled upon the lengthy cancerstick and inquired like an owl: “Why were you here, anyway?” In a casual tone I did, as if it was something so normal that I was nonchalant. “Oh, y’know, to kill myself.” The answer delivered by this sweetness would dwelling in me a day or so afterward (take that very literally) was just as nonchalant, confirming the suspicion conjured by my despaired subconscious that he was just as heady as me, as crazy as me, someone who would rot along me like iron all the while fearing the rot, hiding from something murmuring within thyself and teetering about; aura as a nymphic call and melancholia as the default ring of the mood. GOD is a teenaged girl of grunge and glitter, and I am a doll (soulless, empty, pretty with no matter on the inside yet pretty from the back—it matched!).

“No, no, like, why?” I repeated with an accentuated tone and my regular gestures of hand and eye, “The reason you wanted to kill yourself. I don’t judge, promise.” I shrugged, chuckling a bit as I passed the miniature cancer to him for a drag. “Clearly.” He chuckled too, widening his eyes momentarily to allude to my appearance; as I remember it, that elicited out from me a little giggle. I mean, it was the factual; darling, not lying. A girl; a girl dressed in a pearly babydoll dress with lacy tights (opaque white-like, frilled, a bow on top of each, knee-high) and no footwear with mascara smeared down her face from a clear breakdown of her battlefield for mind, manic brown eyes with a grape-coloured lipstick on pouty heart-shaped lips, blood and dirt also staining her optic area due to her bleeding knuckles from which she punched the steel of the rails because the train did not run over her? Paired alongside the fresh wounds on display littered across that fatty arm of hers? Oh, she was a crazy chick—and I could tell that this little guy loved it. He loved my mania, he loved my blood, he loved my crazy, he loved everything that I loved about myself. Maybe it was his alcohol that urged him this way, but I loved him for he loved what he saw.

But is she pretty on the inside?

“Well,” I spaced back in with the thrill of his voice curling the air around us; I wish we were plunged into steel. Sound travels best in something like steel… What would his voice be in steel? The thought messaged down my spine a shiver. “’s mostly everything about my life. Wouldn’t say I’m addicted, but all I do these days is mope and get high, or drink. I’ve been this since last month. Last year, I saw this… This dead boy who hung himself in the woods. That really affected me, I think; I’ve got suicide genes.” He paused a bit, sighing as he was passed the smokestick again. I puckered up a bit and drew closer to his pretty face, rounding my lips out and pushing out a ring of cigarette smoke. On impulse, he stuck nose through the centre of the dissipating smoke ring which drew from me another giggle—he was just like me! I did that too! I’d never thought someone else would…? What the fuck is going on?

Taking a drag, he then resuméd: “My parents are divorced… I’m really embarrassed of that.” He added a bit hesitantly, I could gauge that he still felt the shame of it all; which perplexed me. A divorce is shameful? How so? It’s a fucking life decision… But, that’s okay because this little one was clearly less mature and emotionally developed than I, although that amount still was remarkable considering his physique and my presumé of his age (which I thought to be elder to me, but still not too much so). “Why?”

“I want my real family back. My dad promised me he wouldn’t remarry, and he fucking did; to a bitch nonetheless. I hate her and her children are so… Phoney…!” Humming at his hurt words, I was analysing him: eyes gliding over the pasty, smooth contours of his vanilla face; staring into the trench of his pupils surrounded by his ocean eyes as he passed back the almost dead cigarette to me. The guard he wore over his exterior again was forming as he read that I was reading him without contempt (he thought I was feeling that, but I was simply analysing him emotionlessly—as if he was a labrat and I was dissecting him to figure out the following: what the fuck is this little shit?). But, I got him before he leaned away or apologised: Don’t worry, go on. Say it. I hate my cousins too. He relaxed yet again, I could see his shoulders come down and he leaned into me again,. Our heads were almost leaning against each other’s, breathes intermixing with each intake and out. “Go on.” I repeated, tapping his knee to accentuate my point.

He snapped out of whatever daze (he was reading me too, perhaps; mentally dissecting my Barbie body too, perhaps) and his hand came to clasp mine. I bit back a giggle and a smile at the contact, he did notice the corner of my lips tilt upward so he took that as a positive for further lacing of his fingers with mine. I, now a bit assured in myself, squeezed his hand and nudged him again: go on.

“Right,” He chuckled, “So, well, I just feel… Alien. You know, when I was little, I used to look at the stars,” He pointed briefly to the stars that were shining above the both of us, “And imagine my real family because I just felt like I wasn’t from here, like I was from another planet. I think I like that feeling, I was homesick for a place that didn’t even exist. And, to be honest, you’re the only other alien I’ve met.” That made me giggle after I muttered hiraeth at the sentence spoken second to the last. I found in my nicotined mindscape that this… Theory, was almost verbatim of a theory I myself had gardened in my meadow for mind. “Y’know…! I felt like that too, still do actually. I just used different terms for it. I called whatever the fuck our species are Earth Angels, angels on Earth. I read somewhere once that a person with scars of cuts on their arms was called an angel by a kid, and I think I really internalised… That.”

He chuckled, “Your mind is divine, Pretty. Yeah, I think my family is also a reason in why… I want to kill myself, y’know?”

“Oh, absolutely. I love them so much so I do what they want and they hate me for every speck of originality; I don’t know if it’s my mental disorders or it’s my hormones, but every small inconvenience makes me wanna kill myself. I’m also a hater! I hate everything and I do nothing to change it which, admittedly, makes me an arsehole—but, fuck it.” We both had laughter crawling up our throats and I could tell it wasn’t actual laughter. Oh, no. It was mania, laughing not because it threatened to spill; laughing because you had nothing else to do. Like crazy people (I do think that I am insane, in some way, shape or form. But, I also think that I’m supersane. Who fucking knows? I think a lot, don’t I?).

The cigarette had gone out by now, I think I had stubbed it out by pressing to the moist ground after he had truly started opening the shells of himself, not wishing to be distracted by drugs when I had the most addictive and healthy sedative offering his lifestory to a little shit like me. “Well, what’s it for you? I haven’t ever seen… You around…” He slurred out as we jumped down from our maniacal, little, episodic bursts of sacrilege or insanity… Well, are they not synonyms?

“Ah, so, I just moved here about a… Maybe a few days ago? I think a week or so. I moved from Lacey, though I’m actually Indian. Well… It’s a fucked-up fairytale, really. My whole ancestry and family is the following: sexist, racist, extremist to Sikhism, religious, doomed, homophobic, transphobic, Islamophobic, very, very Indian. It’s only my grandmother who acknowledges the sexism floating between our family; she dreamt high and was ambition incarnate but her marriage to this horrible fucking man led her to be so oppressed she couldn't speak a word of English without being thoroughly taunted for it.” His face clearly contorted into a gnarly grimace, and I felt my nose start to itch and burn again remembering all this up… Never had I ever trauma-puked this well or been so comfortable vomiting it out to someone I did not know.

“’s just… Fuckin’ Hell. I can’t translate it into words, I can only feel.” Shaking my head in a paternal sort of disappointment (no matter how much I despise the fact, I am my father’s daughter; his copy of carbon) at my inability, I felt myself pulled in again… How? How was he doing this shit? Being so fucking kind? It made me anxious, admittedly. Why was he so kind? What did the fucker want?

I’m being too cynical. I wanted to cry; instead I accepted his tentative comfort and shoved my face into the nook of his neck, breathing down it like a vampire in the night. I had the purely feminine, feline urge to wrap myself around him like Sarin and never let go to slowly dissolve into him even if maggots eat us out. Why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why…? For a few minutes I think, we stayed in that exact position, in a sort of silence that neutered my turmoil. His arms were gel onto my wounds, and I, terrified, readily crept in like the Dutch beetle on the elm.

“Don’t.” I eventually muttered out into the tender, pale, untouched flesh of temptation on his neck; I don’t know why I did it, don’t decipher or discover the root at all. What is a girl to do when offered love on a silver spoon when she only possesses a forked tongue of venom caused from licking slivers of love off a parental knife? I was a black, not racially but spiritually. I was corrupt, disgust, free-use trash for swollen cocks with zero semblance of any soul and only a pretty body. It’s my pretty power which is my ugly. I am disgusting… I sometimes feel the scorching need to cleanse myself, to face redemption, to hurry to salvation; and other days I revel in the hellfire of lust that would surround me once I am liberated of this uséd body.

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justforbooks · 23 days ago

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Osamu Suzuki

Suzuki chairman who over half a century grew the company into one of the world’s largest car and motorcycle manufacturers

Osamu Suzuki, who has died aged 94, was one of the global automotive industry’s longest serving leaders. A director since 1963 of Suzuki, the motorcycle and small car manufacturer based in Hamamatsu, Japan, he rose through the ranks to become in 1979 the firm’s president, a position he relinquished only in 2019 to ascend to the chairmanship. Latterly, as is customary with elder statemen of Japanese industry, he became an adviser, the title he still held at the time of his death.

When he first joined Suzuki, in 1958, it had been in the automobile business for only four years, building the tiny two-cylinder, air-cooled Suzulight car, in a country that was still finding its way as an industrial power. It had been founded in 1909 as a loom manufacturer, but the collapse of the cotton market in the early 1950s galvanised a move towards automotive endeavours.

Suzuki produced its first motorcycle – really a 36cc motorised pedal bike – in 1952 but 10 years later would notch up its first Isle of Man TT victory. In 1976, Barry Sheene won his first 500cc World Championship on a Suzuki RG500. The loom-making arm of the firm was separated from the automotive side in 1960 and, under Osamu, Suzuki expanded into the production of outboard motors, wheelchairs, all-terrain vehicles, and prefabricated housing.

He progressed conservatively to make Suzuki the largest small car producer in Japan, always with a keen eye on cost cutting, even on a shop-floor level: in one plant he famously had some of the light bulbs removed to save $40,000 on electricity.

Suzuki motorcycles arrived in the UK long before its cars, alongside Honda and others helping decimate the British motorcycle industry from the mid-60s onwards with dependable, easy to maintain two-wheeled machinery.

The now collectable Whizzkid Coupe and Jimny off-roader (sold in the UK as the Satana and Samurai) were relative latecomers to the Japanese car sales bonanza from 1979. The Suzuki Alto of the early 80s was the cheapest automatic car then available in the UK, priced at £4,000, while the 1985 Swift was the firm’s first four-cylinder “supermini” sized vehicle.

The Bedford Rascal – better known as the “Sooty van” in the TV puppet series Sooty and Sweep – was really a rebadged Suzuki Carry, or “kei” truck, built to conform to strict Japanese light commercial specifications. These Rascal/Carry trucks were a spin-off from a deal that Osamu Suzuki struck with General Motors in 1981 to sell its economy cars in North America with Chevrolet badges, in return for giving GM a 5% stake in the company.

Osamu would also preside in 2009 over a tie-up with VW that ended in a court battle, and latterly collaborated with Toyota on the design of self-driving cars.

From the late 60s, production of the small Fronte rear-engined cars ramped up under Osamu’s leadership but, unlike its rivals, Nissan, Toyota and Mazda, Suzuki did not give in to the temptation to move upmarket, preferring to use its resources to build satellite plants in emerging markets where its small runabout cars had most appeal.

Beginning in Thailand in 1967 – and followed by Indonesia, the Philippines, Australia and Pakistan in the 70s and 80s – Suzuki expanded its operations on the Pacific rim rather than tackle local rivals head on, although between 1967 and 1970 Japanese production rose substantially, based at four new locations.

In the early 80s Suzuki became the first Japanese manufacturer to establish a manufacturing outlet in India, where its new front-wheel drive Alto/Fronte broke the stranglehold of the outdated Hindustan ambassador (a locally built 1950s Morris Oxford), and the equally ancient Fiat 1100-based Premier Padmini to become the bestselling car in India. Osamu Suzuki made over 200 flights to India in an effort to get this historic deal done.

By the beginning of the 2000s Suzuki had 60 factories in 31 countries as sales rose tenfold to a value of $19bn.

The son of Toshiki and Matsuda Shunzo, and born in the city of Gero, Gifo Prefecture, in central Japan, Osamu graduated in law from Chuo University in Tokyo in 1953 and worked in the loans office of a local bank before joining Suzuki in 1958. Around the same time, he married Shoko Suzuki, the granddaughter of the company’s founder, and, as per local tradition when there is no male heir, adopted his wife’s family name.

Had Hirotaka Ono, the son-in-law he had been grooming to take his place, not died of cancer in 2007, Osamu would probably have enjoyed a much longer retirement. A keen golfer into his 90s, five years ago he handed the reigns of the company to his son Toshihiro, the eldest of his three children.

🔔 Osamu Suzuki, industrialist, born 30 January 1930; died 25 December 2024

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

#just for books #Osamu Suzuki #in memoriam

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scott1984fp2 · 3 months ago

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snpcmachine · 1 year ago

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Produce bricks anywhere and anytime

SnPC Machines: Factory of brick on wheel

Fully automatic mobile brick making machine by SnPC Machines, First of its kind of machine in the world, our brick-making machine moves on wheels like a vehicle and produces bricks while the vehicle is on move. This allows kiln owners to produce bricks anywhere and anytime, as per their requirements. Fully automatic Mobile brick-making machine can produce up to 12000 bricks/hour with a reduction of up to 45% in production cost in comparison with manual and other machinery as well as 4-times (as per testing agencies report) more in compressive strength with standard shape, sizes and another extraordinary provision exist i.e. (that is) machine produced several brick sizes and it can be changed as per customer requirements from time to time. SnPC machines India is selling 04 models of fully automatic brick making machines: BMM160 brick making machine,BMM310, BMM400, and BMM410, (semi-automatic and fully automatic ) to the worldwide brick industry which produce bricks according to their capacities and fuel requirements. Raw material required for these machines is mainly clay, mud, soil or mixture of both. These moving automatic trucks are durable and easy to handle while operating. These machines are eco-friendly and budget-friendly as only one-third of water as compared to other methods is required and minimum labour is enough for these machines. We are offering direct customers access to multiple sites in both domestic and international stages, so they can see the demo and then will order us after satisfaction.

#snpcmachines #factory of brick on wheel #brick manufacturer #brick making machine India #brick making machine Haryana #brick making machine Delhi #mobile brick production #fast brick production #SnPC Machines #SnPC Factory #Team SnPC<

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warningsine · 2 years ago

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JERUSALEM, May 9 (Reuters) - Israel killed three Islamic Jihad commanders and 10 civilians in surprise airstrikes in Gaza on Tuesday, Palestinian officials said, drawing threats of reprisals from the faction and censure from Egypt, which has mediated past ceasefires in the enclave.

Signalling it anticipated an imminent flare-up, Israel closed roads in Israeli towns near Gaza, instructed residents there to keep close to bomb shelters, and said it was calling up some military reservists. Images on social media showed Iron Dome rocket interceptor batteries being trucked to the front.

The scope of any escalation could hinge on whether Gaza's ruling Hamas militants take part, as they did in a 2021 war.

In a bid to deter them, Israeli security cabinet minister Israel Katz told Tel Aviv radio station 103 FM that Hamas leaders could be targeted for assassination, too.

While the Israeli-occupied West Bank and Jerusalem have seen a spread of grassroots violence over the past year, exchanges of fire across the Gaza border have also intensified - most recently following the death last week of an Islamic Jihad leader on hunger-strike in Israeli custody.

Islamic Jihad identified the commanders killed on Tuesday as Jihad Ghannam, Khalil Al-Bahtini and Tareq Izzeldeen. The Iranian-sponsored group is on terrorist watchlists in the West.

Medical officials said 10 civilians, including four children and five women, were also killed in the strikes that hit residential areas in congested Gaza, where 2.3 million Palestinians live on 365 sq km (140 sq miles).

Islamic Jihad vowed to "match the size of the crime".

"The Occupation (Israel) must expect a response at any moment and anywhere," said group spokesperson Dawoud Shehab.

The Israeli military said it was looking into reports of civilian deaths but had no immediate comment.

"We're aware of some collateral and we'll learn more as the day goes ahead," a military spokesperon told reporters.

The military said 40 jets took part in what it called "pinpoint" strikes. "It was a convergence of intelligence, timing and weather," a military spokesperson said.

Ten weapons and infrastructure manufacturing sites, including rocket production workshops and a site for making concrete used for tunnels, as well as military compounds belonging to the group were also hit, the spokesperson said.

"MORE RESISTANCE"

Hamas chief Ismail Haniyeh, who has been splitting his time between Turkey and Qatar, said in a statement: "Assassination of leaders will not bring the Occupation (Israel) security but more resistance."

Egypt, which has used its open channels to Israel and Palestinian militants to mediate truces in the past, said the strikes "contradicted the foundations of international law and international resolutions".

Videos showed billowing smoke and flames that lit up the night sky as trucks of firefighters sped to a building that had been hit, while a medic reassured a young girl who appeared confused.

"Your family is all safe, don't worry," he said.

During the bombardment, Palestinians took to social media to mourn a well-known dentist who was killed at home with his wife, describing him as a loyal friend and humble man.

In another sign Israel was preparing for a flare-up, its foreign minister, Eli Cohen, said he would return early from a visit to India after meeting Prime Minister Narendra Modi.

But the developments offered political reprieve for Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu. Jewish Power, a far-right party in his religious-rightist coalition government, said it was ending a boycott of parliamentary voting that it had called last week in protest at what it deemed lax Israeli policy on Gaza.

More than 100 Palestinians and at least 19 Israelis and foreigners have been killed in the strife since January.

The Palestinian foreign ministry strongly condemned Israel's attack and said a negotiated political solution was the only way to achieve security and stability. Islamic Jihad, like Hamas, refuses coexistence with Israel and preaches its destruction.

Israel captured Gaza and the West Bank, areas that Palestinians want for an independent state with East Jerusalem as its capital, in a 1967 war. Some ministers of Israel's current government have expressed opposition to Palestinian statehood and said there is no such thing as the Palestinian people.

COGAT, a unit of the Israeli defence ministry that coordinates civilian affairs with Palestinians in occupied territories, said its two Gaza crossings were closed to people and goods until further notice.

#israel #gaza #palestine #news

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rmnerectors · 2 years ago

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Lifting Machine Rental in Nashik

RMN Erectors is a marketplace chief within the discipline of Lifting Machine Rental in Nashik, India serving experts who work at heights in any kind of industry. We provide a huge variety of which includes, scissor lifts, Truck Mounted, Man Lift, Diesel Forklift. RMN Erectors make it hard for our clients, providing for Rental Lifting Machine, to work quickly and at any height. It's far from the main employer that surfaces in this context on a normal basis.

RMN Erectors company lives as long as the expectancy and offers its clients with a well-timed and effective lifter machine for rent service. All of our lift rentals equipment allows you to tackle anything the process throws at you with flexibility and confidence. The RMN Erectors Lifting Machine Rental in Nashik for having access to an effective and dependable system on demand, you benefit from the determination and technical capabilities of your nearby.

Rental Lifting Machine In Nashik

A rental lifting machine refers to a piece of equipment used for lifting heavy objects or materials to various heights. There are several types of lifting machines available for rent, depending on the specific requirements of the task at hand. Here are some common examples:

Forklift: Forklifts are versatile machines used for lifting and moving materials in warehouses, construction sites, and industrial settings. They have two forks at the front that can be raised and lowered to lift pallets or other heavy objects.

Boom Lift: Boom lifts, also known as cherry pickers, are used for elevated work tasks. They consist of a platform or bucket attached to a hydraulic arm (or boom), allowing workers to access elevated areas such as building exteriors, trees, or utility poles.

Scissor Lift: Scissor lifts are another type of aerial work platform that can be rented. They have a platform that moves vertically using a crisscrossing mechanism, which resembles a pair of scissors. Scissor lifts are commonly used for maintenance, construction, and installation tasks.

Crane: Cranes are large machines equipped with a hoist, wire ropes or chains, and sheaves. They are used for heavy lifting in construction sites, shipping yards, and other industrial settings. Cranes come in various types, including tower cranes, mobile cranes, and overhead cranes.

Telehandler: A telehandler, or telescopic handler, combines the features of a forklift and a crane. It has a telescoping boom that can extend forward and upward, allowing it to lift and place loads with precision. Telehandlers are commonly used in construction and agriculture.

When renting a lifting machine, it's important to consider factors such as the required lifting capacity, reach, terrain conditions, and any specific attachments or accessories needed for the job. Rental companies typically offer different sizes and models of lifting machines to accommodate various project requirements.

Lifting Machine Hire In Nashik

Lifting machine hire refers to the service provided by equipment rental companies, where they offer various types of lifting machines or equipment for temporary use. Instead of purchasing a lifting machine outright, individuals or businesses can rent the equipment for a specific period of time to meet their lifting needs. Lifting machine hire is a cost-effective and convenient solution for those who require lifting equipment for short-term projects or occasional use.

The types of lifting machines available for hire can vary depending on the rental company and the specific requirements of the customer. Common examples of lifting machines that can be hired include forklifts, cranes, boom lifts, scissor lifts, telehandlers, and hoists.

When renting a lifting machine, customers typically have the flexibility to choose the specific model and size of the machine based on their lifting capacity and reach requirements. Rental periods can range from a few hours to several weeks or months, depending on the duration of the project.

Lifting machine hire services usually include delivery and pickup of the equipment to the customer's location. Some rental companies may also offer additional services such as equipment setup, maintenance, and operator training if required.

The rental rates for lifting machines are typically based on factors such as the type of equipment, rental duration, and any additional services requested. Rental companies may charge an hourly, daily, weekly, or monthly rate, depending on the terms of the rental agreement.

Overall, lifting machine hire provides a flexible and cost-effective solution for obtaining the necessary equipment to safely and efficiently perform lifting tasks without the need for long-term ownership.

Looking for an Lifting Machine Rental in Nashik? Then RMN Erectors is the best choice for you contact us at +91-9423969656 and visit our website

#Lifting Machine Rental in NashikRental Lifting Machine In Nashik #Lifter Machine For Rent In Nashik #Lifting Machine Hire In Nashik #Lifting Machine Rental In Nashik

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iamazadkhan · 2 years ago

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India's Water Scarcity Expected To Get More Severe By 2050: UN Report

Pic Source: https://www.circleofblue.org/2019/india/groundwater-plummets-in-delhi-city-of-29-million/

To Start the Discussion

The nation that pumps the most groundwater has come to terms with its food and water security, which threatens to undermine political and economic stability as well as long-term public health. Circle of Blue uncovers how a nation of 1.3 billion people is inviting disease, economic suffering, and social instability by neglecting to safeguard its water in this special report, which builds on years of on-the-ground reporting. This post is included with the assumption on India's Water Scarcity Expected to Get More Severe By 2050. Have a look on the discussion for detailed information. A food supply "toxic time bomb" with global repercussions goes hand in hand with the depletion and poisoning of groundwater. Farmers use untreated wastewater that is mixed with sewage and industrial chemicals when irrigation wells run dry. The water changed from sustaining life to claiming it, as one villager put it.

A Wide Range of Issues

Delhi is making an effort to meet the demands of tens of millions of people by building new infrastructure on top of water systems that were created centuries ago, like other worldwide megacities, some of which are the size of small nations. Historically, the city relied on a network of check dams, step wells, and natural drains for its water supply. In this arrangement, rainwater was collected during the monsoon season and used all year round. Its historic network was neglected as a result of the metro area's recent decades of rapid growth, which has seen its population surpass 29 million, according to the UN. The majority of the city's natural drainage systems have been covered over or blocked by rubbish. Either lakes or other bodies of water have dried up, or they are now clogged with trash and other pollution. According to Upmanu Lall, a professor at Columbia University and the head of the Columbia Water Center, "Sewers, where they exist, release untreated or inadequately treated water," he told Circle of Blue. According to Lall, seasonal floods also disperses toxins throughout the city's water supply. "There are many places that flood when there are no sewage systems, mobilizing everything on the ground." Delhi's surface water is in poor condition as well. The Yamuna River, a tributary of the Ganges, is used by locals for drinking, bathing, and washing. However, the river is a poisonous brew of industrial chemicals, agricultural runoff, and sewage. According to a recent study, 1,500 unlicensed slums' worth of sewage and feces are dumped right into the Yamuna. The government-owned Delhi Jal Board is in charge of managing the city's water distribution system. Eighty-one percent of Delhi households have some access to piped water, though the supply—which comes from the Yamuna River and the ground—isn't always dependable or clean. The water that enters the pipes frequently leaks out. Water loss in the city might reach 40% as a result of theft and leakage. Approximately 625,000 households do not have any connection to the city pipelines, according to the 2011 Census. These homes are mostly found in slums or unofficial settlements.

Closing the Discourse

Borewells or tanker trucks are used by millions of residents who are not adequately supplied by the city's water distribution system or are excluded from it. Illegal borewells are commonplace across the city, with some of them extending more than 120 meters. According to a report from March 2018, 15 of Delhi's 27 administrative divisions "overexploit" groundwater. There are additional variables at play in Delhi's impending groundwater issue besides illegal groundwater extraction. According to Lall, the Delhi metropolitan region includes its own capital territory and is bordered by the states of Uttar Pradesh and Haryana, both of which regularly pump considerable amounts of groundwater for domestic use. The region's water users as a whole are taking groundwater more quickly than it is naturally replenishing. Read the full article

#indianmemoir #nation

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careindiapackers · 2 years ago

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equitylogistic · 1 hour ago

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The Ultimate Guide to Project Cargo Logistics: From Planning to Execution

Project cargo logistics is a complex and dynamic aspect of the supply chain that demands careful attention to detail. Whether you are transporting heavy machinery, oversized equipment, or sensitive materials, getting it right can make or break your project. It's not just about moving goods from point A to point B; it's about orchestrating an entire symphony of planning, execution, and collaboration. As businesses expand their reach across borders and industries evolve at lightning speed, having effective logistics solutions becomes more critical than ever. In India alone, where logistics services are evolving rapidly due to technology and regulatory changes, understanding the nuances of project cargo can give companies a competitive edge. This guide will take you through every step of the process—from meticulous planning stages to navigating compliance hurdles. You’ll discover how to select the best transportation modes for your needs and learn invaluable lessons from real-world successes in this field. So buckle up as we explore strategies that lead to successful project cargo execution!

Understanding Project Cargo Logistics

Project cargo logistics involves the transportation of large, heavy, or complex items that require specialized handling. Unlike standard freight shipping, this niche focuses on unique challenges and solutions tailored to each shipment. These projects often involve significant planning and coordination among multiple stakeholders. The complexity can arise from various factors such as size limitations at ports, route restrictions due to infrastructure, and specific loading/unloading requirements. A deep understanding of these intricacies is crucial for successful execution. Each project demands a customized approach that considers timelines, budgets, and risk assessments. Collaboration with experienced logistics services in India can streamline processes significantly. Utilizing experts ensures compliance with local regulations while optimizing routes for efficiency. Mastering project cargo logistics means being prepared for anything—because no two shipments are ever the same.

Key Components of Effective Planning

Effective planning is the backbone of successful project cargo logistics. It starts with a clear understanding of the project's scope and objectives. Identifying key milestones ensures that all stakeholders are aligned. Next, resource allocation plays a vital role. Knowing what equipment and personnel are necessary can streamline operations significantly. This helps prevent delays that could cost time and money. Moreover, communication channels must be established early on. Regular updates between teams foster collaboration and transparency throughout the process. Another essential component is timeline management. Creating realistic schedules aids in tracking progress while allowing for adjustments as needed. Budget considerations should not be overlooked. Comprehensive financial planning will help manage costs without compromising quality or efficiency when selecting logistics services in India or elsewhere.

Selecting the Right Transportation Mode

Choosing the right transportation mode is crucial for project cargo logistics. Each mode has its advantages and limitations, making it essential to tailor your approach to specific needs. Air freight offers speed but often comes with higher costs. It’s ideal for time-sensitive shipments. On the other hand, sea freight provides a cost-effective alternative for heavier loads, though transit times can be longer. Road transport plays a vital role in connecting various stages of logistics. When flexibility and accessibility are priorities, trucks deliver unmatched value. Rail transport strikes an excellent balance between cost and efficiency, especially over long distances. Evaluating factors like budget constraints, delivery timelines, and cargo dimensions will guide you toward the best choice. Collaborating with a reputable logistics solutions company can simplify this decision-making process significantly.

Navigating Regulatory and Compliance Issues

Navigating regulatory and compliance issues is crucial in project cargo logistics. Each region has its own set of rules governing the transport of goods, especially oversized or sensitive items. Understanding these regulations can prevent costly delays. Staying informed about customs requirements, permits, and tariffs is essential for smooth transit. Collaboration with a reliable logistics solutions company helps simplify this process. They bring expertise that ensures adherence to local laws while managing documentation effectively. Moreover, it’s vital to consider international standards if your project spans multiple countries. A comprehensive approach minimizes risks related to non-compliance. Regular training and updates for your team can also enhance awareness of changing regulations. This proactive stance not only safeguards operations but builds trust with stakeholders involved in the project supply chain.

Risk Management and Contingency Planning

Risk management is a critical aspect of project cargo logistics. Identifying potential risks early can save time and resources later on. Common threats include delays, damage during transit, and compliance issues. Once risks are identified, it’s essential to develop a robust contingency plan. This means creating alternative strategies for transportation routes or additional safety measures to protect cargo integrity. Engaging with experienced logistics solutions companies can help in assessing these risks effectively. Their expertise ensures that your project adheres to regulations while minimizing disruptions. Regularly updating the risk assessment process is vital as projects evolve. Conditions change frequently, so having an agile approach keeps you prepared for unexpected challenges. Open communication among all stakeholders fosters a proactive environment where potential issues can be addressed before they escalate into serious problems.

Leveraging Technology for Efficiency

Technology is reshaping project cargo logistics in remarkable ways. Real-time tracking systems allow stakeholders to monitor shipments at every stage, enhancing transparency and reducing uncertainties. Automation tools streamline documentation processes. This minimizes human errors and speeds up approvals, ensuring smoother transitions throughout the supply chain. Data analytics play a vital role too. By analyzing past projects, logistics solutions companies can predict potential bottlenecks and optimize routes for future shipments. Cloud-based platforms facilitate collaboration among teams across different locations. With shared information available at their fingertips, teams can make informed decisions quickly. Embracing technology not only boosts efficiency but also enhances customer satisfaction. Clients appreciate timely updates and accurate delivery estimates, which create a trustworthy relationship between them and logistics services in India.

Real-world Case Studies and Success Stories

Real-world case studies provide invaluable insights into the complexities of project cargo logistics. One notable example involves a renewable energy company transporting wind turbine components across multiple countries. Their collaboration with a leading logistics solutions company ensured timely deliveries despite challenging weather conditions. Another success story comes from the construction sector, where heavy machinery needed to be moved to remote locations. By leveraging specialized equipment and local expertise, the logistics team minimized downtime and optimized routes. In both cases, effective communication played a crucial role in coordinating between various stakeholders. This synergy not only streamlined operations but also fostered trust among all parties involved. These examples highlight how tailored logistics services can overcome obstacles and drive successful outcomes in diverse industries. Each scenario demonstrates that innovative thinking and strategic planning are essential for navigating project cargo challenges effectively.

Achieving Project Cargo Success

Achieving success in project cargo logistics requires a blend of meticulous planning and agile execution. The journey begins with clear communication among all stakeholders. Aligning expectations is crucial to prevent misunderstandings. Flexibility plays a vital role as well. Unexpected challenges can arise, from weather delays to equipment failures. A proactive mindset allows teams to adapt quickly without compromising timelines. Collaboration with experienced logistics solutions companies enhances efficiency. These experts provide insights that help navigate complexities unique to each project. Monitoring key performance indicators (KPIs) throughout the process keeps everything on track. This enables project managers to identify bottlenecks early and adjust strategies accordingly. Fostering strong relationships with transportation providers ensures reliability and responsiveness when needed most. Investing time in these partnerships pays significant dividends later on. Continuous learning from past projects also helps refine processes for future endeavors, creating an evolving cycle of improvement that drives ongoing success.

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vikasroyal · 21 hours ago

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Best Commercial Vehicles in India: Top SCVs for Your Business

Small commercial vehicles in India are vital to the transportation and logistics sectors, providing versatile solutions for businesses of all sizes. These vehicles are designed to handle a variety of cargo, making them ideal for urban and rural deliveries, last-mile connectivity, and various commercial applications. With their compact size, commercial vehicles are perfect for navigating congested city roads while offering adequate payload capacity and fuel efficiency. To learn about commercial vehicle price , features, performance, and the best commercial vehicle for your business, visit the Truck Junction platform, which will provide you with complete information about its specifications and features.

#Commercial vehicle

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exportersworldb2b · 4 days ago

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How much does it cost to ship furniture from india to usa

How Much Does It Cost to Ship Furniture from India to the USA?

When importing furniture from India to the USA, shipping costs can vary based on several factors, including the size and weight of the furniture, shipping method, customs duties, and destination. At ExportersWorlds, we specialize in helping businesses and individuals navigate the complexities of international furniture shipping with ease and cost-effectiveness.

In this guide, we’ll break down the cost factors, shipping options, and additional expenses to consider when shipping furniture from India to the USA.

Factors Affecting the Cost of Shipping Furniture

1. Shipping Method

The shipping method you choose plays a major role in the cost. The two primary options are:

· Sea Freight: The most economical option for large furniture shipments. Furniture is typically shipped in containers (20ft or 40ft) or as Less than Container Load (LCL) shipments.

· Air Freight: Much faster but significantly more expensive, usually used for urgent or high-value shipments.

2. Size and Weight of Furniture

Shipping costs depend on the dimensions and weight of the furniture. Larger and heavier items cost more due to the space they occupy in the shipping container or aircraft.

3. Distance and Destination Port

The shipping cost also varies depending on the port of departure in India (e.g., Mumbai, Chennai, Kolkata) and the port of entry in the USA (e.g., Los Angeles, New York, Houston). Shipping to inland destinations in the USA may require additional trucking charges.

4. Customs Duties and Taxes

The USA imposes customs duties on imported furniture, typically ranging from 0% to 5%, depending on the material and type of furniture. Additional fees may apply based on local regulations.

5. Packaging and Handling Fees

Proper packaging is crucial for preventing damage during transit. Many exporters offer professional packaging services, which can add an extra $100-$500 per shipment, depending on the volume and fragility of the furniture.

Estimated Shipping Costs from India to the USA

Here is a general estimate of shipping costs for different methods:

Shipping Method

Estimated Cost

Sea Freight (LCL)

$300 - $800 per cubic meter

Sea Freight (Full Container - 20ft)

$2,000 - $4,000

Sea Freight (Full Container - 40ft)

$4,000 - $7,000

Air Freight

$5 - $10 per kg

Note: These are approximate costs and can fluctuate based on fuel prices, demand, and shipping routes.

How to Reduce Shipping Costs

If you’re looking to save on shipping costs, here are some tips:

1. Choose Sea Freight Over Air Freight – Unless it’s urgent, sea freight is much more cost-effective.

2. Optimize Packaging – Efficient packaging can reduce volume and weight, lowering costs.

3. Consolidate Shipments – If you have multiple furniture pieces, shipping them together reduces the per-unit shipping cost.

4. Work with a Reliable Shipping Partner – At ExportersWorlds, we negotiate the best rates for our customers to ensure competitive pricing.

Conclusion

Shipping furniture from India to the USA can cost anywhere between $300 to $7,000, depending on factors like shipping method, furniture size, and customs duties. By choosing the right shipping partner and planning ahead, you can optimize costs and ensure a smooth shipping experience.

At Exporters Worlds, we provide end-to-end logistics support for furniture exports, ensuring safe and timely delivery. Contact us today for a customized shipping quote and expert guidance!

#shippingcost #cost #shippping #shipping #furniture export

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avaalin · 5 days ago

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AVAAL Freight Management (AFM) Bharat Best Trucking Dispatch Software in India

Effective dispatching is critical to a company's operational success in the logistics and transportation industry. Trucking companies must manage multiple routes, drivers, and roads while ensuring compliance, efficiency, and profitability. Dispatch software has become an invaluable tool for streamlining these tasks. The best trucking dispatch software offers features that automate scheduling, improve route planning, track vehicles, and facilitate communication between dispatchers and drivers.

This guide will explore the top features of trucking dispatch software, highlight the best options available, and discuss how these solutions can benefit your business.

Key Features of Trucking Dispatch Software:

The right dispatch software can revolutionize the way trucking companies operate. Some of the most essential features to look for include:

Real-Time GPS Tracking and Route Optimization: Real-time GPS tracking helps dispatchers monitor truck locations, ensuring drivers are on schedule. Advanced route optimization algorithms automatically suggest the fastest, most fuel-efficient routes, considering traffic, weather, and road conditions.

Load and Freight Management: Dispatch software enables the management of load assignments, freight details, and customer requirements. This ensures that the proper roads are dispatched to the appropriate drivers, avoiding delays and maximizing efficiency.

Driver Communication Tools: A reliable dispatch system includes communication channels like text, email, or in-app messaging, enabling seamless interaction between dispatchers and drivers. This real-time communication can help promptly address issues like delays, missed turns, or emergencies.

Automated Scheduling and Dispatching: The software automates assigning loads to drivers, allowing dispatchers to focus on more strategic tasks. By considering driver availability, vehicle capacity, and route optimization, automated dispatching helps avoid human errors and boosts overall productivity.

Compliance and Documentation Management: Trucking companies must comply with various regulations, such as Hours of Service (HOS) and electronic logging devices (ELDs). Dispatch software integrates these compliance features, helping monitor drivers' hours, generate reports, and meet regulatory requirements.

Fleet Maintenance Management: Keeping vehicles in top condition prevents costly breakdowns. Some dispatch software includes fleet maintenance tracking, reminding fleet managers when inspections, oil changes, or repairs are due.

Billing and Invoicing: Efficient billing and invoicing ensure that trucking companies get paid on time. Many dispatch software platforms offer integrated accounting features to streamline the invoicing process, including automatic generation of invoices and payment tracking.

Analytics and Reporting: Advanced reporting tools provide trucking companies with valuable insights into their operations. These reports include fuel consumption, driver performance, fleet utilization, and delivery times. Analytics help companies identify areas for improvement and make data-driven decisions.

Best Trucking Dispatch Software company:

Here are some of the best trucking dispatch software solutions currently on the market:

AVAAL: AVAAL Freight Management (AFM) Bharat is one of the leading software for logistic companies all in one integrated, known for its GPS tracking and it integrates real-time truck stop data, fueling stations, cost optimization, route optimization, and ELD compliance and ease of use.

Samsara: Samsara offers an all-in-one fleet management solution that includes real-time GPS tracking, route optimization, and ELD compliance. With its user-friendly interface, Samsara allows dispatchers to monitor driver’s behavior, track vehicle health, and generate detailed reports. It is especially popular among small to medium-sized trucking companies due to its scalability and ease of use.

Trucker Path: Known for its GPS and routing capabilities, Trucker Path is a highly rated platform among truck drivers and fleet operators. It integrates real-time truck stop data, fueling stations, and available parking. Additionally, Trucker Path offers load boards, simplifying freight matching for carriers and brokers.

Keep Truckin: Keep Trucking’s dispatch software is another popular choice for trucking companies. In addition to GPS tracking and route planning, it offers powerful ELD compliance tools. Keep Truckin also includes driver safety, vehicle maintenance, and fuel efficiency features. The software’s simplicity and integration with mobile devices make it an attractive option for businesses of all sizes.

Fleet Complete: Fleet Complete offers a comprehensive fleet management platform that incorporates dispatch, vehicle tracking, maintenance management, and driver communication. With advanced reporting and analytics tools, Fleet Complete is ideal for companies looking to optimize their fleet operations and reduce operational costs.

Rose Rocket: Rose Rocket provides a cloud-based dispatch and logistics management solution for freight carriers, 3PLs, and brokers. It features automated dispatching, route optimization, load management, and real-time tracking. Rose Rocket is known for its user-friendly interface and strong customer support, making it an excellent choice for businesses looking for simplicity and reliability.

Dispatch Track: Dispatch Track is powerful dispatch software specializing in last-mile delivery. It offers route optimization, real-time tracking, and customer notifications. This platform is designed to improve on-time deliveries, reduce costs, and enhance customer satisfaction. Dispatch Track also includes robust reporting and analytics tools.

How Trucking Dispatch Software Can Benefit Your Business

Improved Efficiency: Automated scheduling, route optimization, and load management save time and reduce manual errors. Dispatchers can focus on higher-level tasks while the software handles repetitive functions, allowing quicker turnarounds and reduced operational costs.

Better Driver Management: With features like GPS tracking and communication tools, dispatchers can ensure drivers follow their routes, adhere to schedules, and comply with regulations. This also enhances driver safety by providing real-time updates and alerts.

Enhanced Customer Satisfaction: Accurate dispatching and timely deliveries lead to happier customers. With dispatch software, trucking companies can provide customers with real-time updates on delivery status, improving transparency and trust.

Cost Reduction: By optimizing routes, reducing fuel consumption, and improving fleet maintenance, trucking companies can significantly lower operating costs. Dispatch software helps identify inefficiencies and bottlenecks that could otherwise go unnoticed.

Conclusion:

The best trucking dispatch software meets your business's specific needs, whether it's improving operational efficiency, enhancing customer satisfaction, or maintaining regulatory compliance. Investing in a robust dispatch platform is essential for trucking companies looking to stay competitive in an increasingly digital and data-driven world. Whether you're a small owner-operator or a large fleet manager, choosing the right software can make all the difference in your business’ efficiency, profitability, and growth.

#dispatch software #TMS Software #Freight dispatch software

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