#unfortunately i couldnt convince myself that that's the case

[lawlietscaramels]

GUESS WHO FINISHED ANOTHER CHAPTER OF THE SIDE PROJECT WITHOUT DOING ANY WORK ON THE MAIN PROJECT!!!

[mamadarama]

spoilers for the matrix event kind of ?

so i read the translation today of the whole event and it's just unbelievably bad , I'm not sure if you had a chance to look through . and takashi who's basically a little hiiro but actually he's a child of producer rinne once had with god knows if their father or just someone from amagi family ? it feels like a really bad fanservice and I'd like to hear you thoughts if you read this . it's okay if no and you can't really comment on that but i couldn't keep silent so forgive my off topic ramble .

i hope you will have a good day or night

{major matrix spoilers}

i just read the story myself. its alright, not much worse than any of the others, just hard to follow because its all rinne being rinne. its not really that fanservicy imo, i thought id hate it more than i do . my biggest gripe is akiras choice of dialogue for aira . again. i really wish he would stop doing that but thats besides the point.

edit: i also wanted to add that the part where tatsumi and mayoi are worried about hiiro and aira and theyre like "theyll be fine theyre strong capable people" and it immediately cuts to aira screaming bloody murder absolutely sent me

heres a summary of the story from what ive gathered . this is a long one so ill put it under a read more

rinne set up an elaborate scheme to protect the privacy of his hometown. when rinne first went to the city he saw an unnamed idol that inspired him to become one himself. that idol retired and became a teacher at an all girls school (i wanna bet its kimisaki academy. thats unimportant to the story tho.), and his producer , akan, was left struggling until she met rinne and began producing him. unfortunately the job became too much for her and she began to crack under the pressure, and had to retire for her own health. rinne told her about his hometown, where she would be able to live out the rest of her life in peace. to ensure no one would go looking for her , they set up a plan— they pitched a fake mystery program where she would go investigate a phenomenon in the area of the village, and "disappear mysteriously". the footage would never be released because of the "incident", and as long as they didnt find her she would be declared dead after being missing for long enough, therefore closing the resulting missing person case and leaving her to be unbothered and truly leave her past behind and start over. while she was living in the village she met rinnes father, and they eventually got married and had a kid, takashi (its never mentioned that hes their kid, but rinne says his father wishes he could make takashi his heir instead of rinne, implying hes his son) . he looks like hiiro because the amagi family has strong genes (and also likely because the devs could repurpose kid hiiros live2d model). rinne noticed his fans were getting increasingly curious about his hometown and worried that the extra attention would eventually cause trouble for the people in his village, and by extension disrupt the peaceful life akan had built there. his solution was to "reveal" his hometown in a tv program and satisfy his fans curiosity so theyd drop the subject. but he couldnt just make a program for no reason, so he pitched the matrix event , part of which would be hosted at the "amagis village". he didnt want it to be a large scale event, so he contacted the retired idol akan used to produce and asked him to pose as akan to produce the event since he was the only other person to have known her well enough to impersonate her and capitalizing on the fact that no one remembered who akan is or what she looked like. anzu ended up getting involved and as a result it turned into a much bigger event than rinne intended for it to be . the "village" that the event was hosted in was actually the contact point for the actual village, a place that looked convincing enough but was really just used as a meeting point for the village to import resources from the city without exposing their real location. but of course in typical rinne fashion, he only reveals this to the rest of alkakurei at the very end, so everyone was just very confused the whole time. rinne also claims takashi is his and anzus kid at first, but no one believes him of course because that makes no sense.

tldr; rinne is worried that his fans are getting too curious about his hometown and might eventually lead to it being exposed, so he stages a fake reveal to satisfy his fans curiosity.

-----

i sorta like it. its not completely outlandish by enstars standards and it ties up a few loose ends about rinnes backstory (like what happened to his career as a solo idol before his duo unit with niki, why he became an idol, and who produced him before he met anzu) as well as further solidifying his character as someone who genuinely cares about the well being of others and will fight to protect them by any means necessary even if theyre not part of his life anymore .

[courtoftheclueless]

6. How did you react once you realized you had feelings for them? Were you calm, stressed, in denial, etc.? Vice versa?

A set of five women who all looked alike sat in a circle in the empty spare room of the Order of Heroes. All held varying shades of brown-blonde hair, and all had dark eyes. Even their faces looked similar, though the differences told less about different people as they did different lives.

"Well, this first meeting of the 'Summonerface' Heroes has begain. First question is from Empress Natlyia. So, who wants to answer first?"

Kyrin was the first to talk, with her holy summoning gun on her lap, in case any of the Hero versions of herself needed... pushing in answering the questions.

"I'll go first." Robin, or Angelina depending on who it was, spoke first. Her long legs crossed, emphasized in her stereotypical pirate look that were complete with thigh high and tall heeled boots. And the rediculous hat. Naturally. "When I realized I was initially interested in Chrom, I was... disappointed in myself really. Nothing against him. He's just-"

"A Himbo?"

"-Overly optimistic and sometimes hard to convince the negatives to life. Actions. People. Considering that I was trying to protect the real Robin, I felt that getting involved with someone like him would only put her in danger.

"As it turned out, once he realized he was interested in me back he decided the best way to show it was to aid me in protecting Robin. Which, honestly, was far more impactful in me falling for him than anything else he could have done."

"The fact that he knew what you prioritized and how he supported you in it?"

"That's likely Kyrin." Her hands cross delicately, as she looked around at her counterparts. Mischief in her eyes and a scheming smile on her lips. "Now then... I vote for... Joy next."

The woman in question, with her self chopped hair and childish cheeks, pouted as she realized she couldnt really put this off.

"Look. It's not fair that I have to answer for two people while you only answer for one." She evaluated her pirate counterpart and realized there was no way around it. "Fine. So, I fell for Ryoma first. It wasn't hard, considering that he welcomed me as Lady Azura's retainer immediately and seemed genuinely happy that there was someone in Hoshido that could focus on her health and happiness.

"Falling for Saizo was the real... issue." She pit on the edge of her finger as she though of how to explain it. "I think it started off as a competition. He thought he was too sneaky for me to notice him. So I made a doll of him, making sure it included everything I could observe about him. Which meant that I had to just... watch him. And then whoops I have made a huge mistake."

There was a murmur of agreement across the group. The Saizo in the Order of Heroes was not from a world where Joy ended up in Hoshido. Everyone knew how difficult he was.

"If it's any consolation, however, he made it seem like how he fell for me was very similar. Just a matter of 'oh shit here we go again'." Even her laughter seemed more contained than her counterparts, the soft sound hidden behind her hand. "Ryoma, however, describes his descent into the madness quite poetically in his letters.

"'It is less like waking up to find oneself drowning. Instead, I found myself taking another small step into the water with each laughter, each smile of yours when you triumphed and each blaze of passion in your eyes when you decided you would not fail again. By the time I realized I was so close to drowning in my love, I could have turned back. But as you would talk with me so softly but so comfortably, I knew that was not an option. I did not drown to love you, my Joy, but dove into it all on my own.'"

"I wish I got a confession like that." Claes, one of the two versions of the Fodlan shapeshifter, groaned as Joy finished. Their hands ran down their face. "Felix basically just told me that 'you can keep up with me, so keep up' and Petra and I both had to figure out what the hell that meant. At least Petra and I just kinda woke up after a hunting trip to realize we were already courting."

"And how did you feel for him?" Charlotte, the other version, seemed interested in what changed the pair of their lives so much. "I mean, you and Petra had to have seen something in him that made you think 'Yes we shall rule Brigid with him'."

"He... have you ever noticed him focused on something?" There were a couple nods. The younger version of him was already present, and he seemed so focused on his swordplay that there was no room for anything else. "I can't tell you exactly why, but I just realized one day that I wanted him to focus on me like that too."

...

"Then I promptly took a swim in the pond in Garreg Mach because what the actual hell was that thought?"

A round of laughter, because yeah. That sounded about right for the less than forward version of Claes. But eyes soon landed on the other one.

"But you fell for the King of Delusions, Charlotte." They settled into their seat, arms crossed, and looked to the other. "I'm curious as to when you realized that."

"Oh, I realized, like, my second month in the Academy." While her hand waved dismissively, her words seemed to shock the others. "And he realized a crush on me early on as well. We talked it out during the Ball, because neither of us wanted to avoid the other, and... perhaps we never would have ended up together if I hadn't changed so much during those five years."

"If he liked you before-"

"Oh no! The problem was my own complex because of my upbringing." A pointed look with her counterpart, and it seemed like no one would be getting more information than that for a while. "I needed to get to the point that I felt like an adequate partner. In the meantime, he worked on his own unfortunate happenings. We got together only after we were healthy enough to have done so."

The others nodded, because that all made sense.

"Well, I can't really think of anyone for me to answer this about-"

"Your Imperial Majesty, Natlyia, please excuse Kyrin here, she's still in denial."

"I AM NOT END OF QUESTION"

[ts-akhmim]

Episode 6 | “His best Amanda Kimmel "Go girl, give us nothing!" impersonation” - Liam

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1ryrU-tXQbMyAa2Sl_GFiJb61i6qUNY-x/view?usp=sharing

aj went home??!?!?! hello!? JAKE SURVIVED SO THERE IS A GOD

Who feels like shit? Meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee. And now I remember why I feuded with Jakey... he literally did what ever he wanted. Which is very inconvenient for the rest of us. I know he put my name down. Granted 3 minutes ago I was sure it was Dan but after briefly snapping at him I put it together. Dan, 7:21 PM Seriously I’m not mad about it ahha I can see how my words were taken. And then I definitely said this afternoon we hadn’t talked and that was why I thought you would be the vote on my end Yeah you were a target before AJ started throwing my name out. I own up to that 100% So now it's time to play voting detective... yaayyyyyyyyyyyy (em llik) This entire vote started off with Jakey and Dan. Dan claims that he didn't bring my name up, but it would be an ass pull for Jakey to come to me with Dan wanting me dead immediately after the immunity challenge and then suddenly manifest it. Jakey immediately comes to me and I immediately come to the Dumb Betches (tm). I want Dan out but it's just not realistic as the other side isn't as comfortable playing with a pure beauty team. Next day we form the Thots R Us alliance and Jakey and Scott plead their case for AJ to leave and we, like idiots, go for it. Dan continues to campaign for me. Devon gets into the mix at some point and tells Dan that AJ is voting for him. Dan changes his vote. Now according to Augusto around this point, Jakey mentioned the possibility of having an extra vote before completely shutting it down. Claiming it to be "unnecessary". I think this sparked the idea to tell AJ about the vote under the guise of "golly gee I don't wanna vote for Dan because honor and stuff so I'm voting for you". I assume it's around then he wrote my name down. Like a bitch. Sorry I'm trying to be less hateful and aggressive but man it's harrdddddddd. My guess is that he wanted a beauty out no matter what and figured he'd have better luck convincing the others to vote for me in a situation where an idol is played. He probably also wanted me and Dan to turn further against each other. Unfortunately for him, I spent all of my impulse control that day on not chewing Dan's head off and I snapped immediately afterwords and so some things were cleared up. It has to be Jakey not just because of all the things lining up and not just because it is in his character but I genuinely can't imagine anyone else doing so. - AJ and Amir are loyal hoes. Plus if one of them did something that absurd, it wouldn't exactly benefit them. It puts strain between our relationships with the other players and honestly I don't know why they'd waste a vote on me when if an idol is played they risk losing a beauty majority. - Devon doesn't seem like he would make any waves and seems to have taken a liking to me. Granted I'm less sure about him then the others but he did put most of the work in convincing Dan not to put my name down. Plus he doesn't seem to have anticipated AJ having an idol. - Scott, to do something like this would have been risky. I'm his primary connection to the beauty alliance, if AJ were to play an idol he would have risked losing an asset. - I truly think Dan isn't lying to me because he genuinely believed if he didn't vote for AJ he'd be fucked. He wasn't comfortable with where the votes lied, to throw a vote towards me would have been pretty dumb and insanely reckless. Jakey is the only person I can think of who would go out so out of his way for something like this. Chaos is more or less his calling card. Plus it would be in his best interest to keep around someone in his majority alliance and get rid of a beauty. And he probably thought that I was a better option considering past history or whatever. :/ So now we have to sacrifice Jakey to the survivor gods not because he wrote my name down but because I can't trust him to keep his shit together and vote with us. We were going to target Dan next and he probably won't be chill with that. He probably would prefer to aim for Devon or One of the beauties. And that well, wouldn't be in my best interest either. In the mean time, I'm just going to sit still and look pretty. 

Ok, I need to make a quick apology. Talking to Autumn and Duncan has been the highlight of my game thus far. Autumn went to the same undergrad as me and Duncan is one of the most genuine guys I've ever met. I feel terrible for ever being doubtful of being on the same tribe as them. Because now I really think I have two more people that I feel I can trust and move with further, which (in the words of the perfect Mrs. Kim Spradlin) means I have options, and I think this can guarantee a spot for me at merge and a really good group to make some moves with that isn't as obvious to people. If we were to go to tribal, I think my target would be Connor which should be an easy vote given his general lack of activity on the tribe thus far, but I'm also not against the prospect of blindsiding Ali as I think there's a chance he has that Apis idol and I'm certain he has a few tricks up his sleeves.

okay soooo i have two LONG video confessionals uploading from the last two days but wow stuff is happening... so first off, the nuThoth tribe voted off... AJ?! which is so unexpected, that shakes up the game completely, like now it means the game is changed... it means the brawn four on this tribe sticking together is a really bad idea, and it just... everything has changed. i'm so so glad jake has survived, which keeps one good ally in on nuThoth. I'm still scared of Augusto/Amir/Kendall/Scott, but hopefully one will go if they go to tribal again? idek but yeah a lot of this will be repeated in my video, but god is a woman. and her name is autumn, i called with autumn for TWO HOURS yesterday and it was a transcendent experience, i literally love her so much. and it was such a good conversation, like i 100% overshared but it was great to kinda link up... i talked to her about adam (more on him later), she filled me in on the brain hot goss and she is of course someone i want to stick with. on this tribe, the two i feel best about are tj and autumn - tj i was SO mean to at the start but i actually get really good energy from him now? i really want to solidify something with him, i definitely want to stick wit him. jordan i think trusts me a lot but for some reason i continue to have anxiety about him (but he is a good shield in a merge situation). i for some reason get really good vibes from connor? i think i would love to talk to him more (will pm him today) - i think connor gives off good vibes and particularly since adam's conspiracy of a beauty illuminati is over i think i could trust him a lot? we haven't spoken much but he has really good ally potential imo. adam is a tricky one. for some reason i do NOT trust him. he is in EVERYONES pms peddling this same narrative and is just doing a lot? i think he is a real slippery player, and i feel like he is a fish who if we release into the ocean of a merge tribe we will never get back? i have such anxiety about him making it far so i'd love for him to go as soon as possible. its tough tho because now that a beauty majority voted off a beauty, i feel like the brawn four on this tribe need to do similar? so maybe i need to vote off liam? its just annoying because i trust liam, and i'd LOVE to get adam out but i dont see the numbers to pull that off. so i feel like we have to vote liam to give ourselves wiggle room as brawn players, but from there idk... because i want adam GONE grrrrrrrrrr its frustrating. hopefully we win this challenge, and the other tribe has another chance to get rid of someone... like the less decisions i have to make the better at this point i take it back jordan is so sweet, he is like a teddy bear... its just whether he is a care bear or lotso from toy story

i cant remember what my last confessional said so im just gonna start with last tribal: aj got voted out ........ of all the false beautys it had to be him the ONE who actually was nice to me and was the whistleblower on that main alliance? when i said it'd ironically beautiful to me to see one of the beautys voted out he was NOT any of the ones i was talking about then we get our next immunity and oh would you look at that... THREE people have to sit out meaning there's gonna surely be another chat with 5 people in it to say lets vote adam out AGAIN.......as soon as i saw this challenge my ptsd immediately was triggered and i was trying SO hard to sound like i wanted to be in one of the things even if i wouldnt have been good at it just so i could rest easy but it didnt really work out, in fact the highlight of the challenge was actually me and duncan and our contribution of sitting on the sidelines looking pretty while they all flopped but bless their hearts at least they tried, so now we're going back to tribal, and again i didnt compete in immunity which apparenly is cause for a target now so ... im HOPING that doesnt happen again, and if it does then i probably deserve to go home! i was kinda just.... not in the mood to talk to anyone much of yesterday or even today just because um.... i didnt want to dfakdfs mostly due to that dumb bitch DeDe Pressión just making me wanna do nothing but lay in bed and torture myself by watching more real survivor but i woke up today in a better mood, the moods they come and they go, much like me i love being elusive so hopefully people just dont think im like such dumb bitch who doesnt wanna talk or whatever, because believe it or not the gorls can be so hateful over you not being able to recite their whole life story back to them at the final triabl! they ripped me to shred my first season because i couldnt tell them so and so had a purple sheep back on the farm in late october 2007 like gorl plea .... so yeah ive been trying to talk to more people today to compensate, not sure where it will go, it did reassure me a bit that liam messaged me like RIGHT after the challenge and began already saying stuff about connor like ooh gorl michael_jackson_i_love_this_song.gif, but i just need to be careful because i dont want to seem like im the one controlling the vote, because odds are im gonna get made to look a fool and ill go home, or be left in the dark, but im gonna try to have slightly more faith in these people and hope they're buying what im selling, because it's pretty good stuff, i just want to feel like im the most expensive iphone in the store you know, like i want to be able to say im building relationships nonetheless and will make people come running to ME with information but who knows. I'm either playing decently and in a good spot right now, or im a fucking delusional schizophrenic so im hoping tribal reveals something like that one way or another. at least if i get voted off i can stop letting this game stress me the HELL out in the middle of a fucking pandemic

When AJ leaves and you can trust your new alliance with the beauties and Jakey https://media.tenor.com/images/b4c2f5c658c1d3ade7e506ee7ffe3c5e/tenor.gif When you win your first tribal immunity challenge of the season https://i.imgur.com/8xzlbRW.gif When you don’t have to see Alyssa and Jess at tribal https://media.giphy.com/media/6nuiJjOOQBBn2/giphy.gif My tribe when I get to go to bed early because I don’t have to stay up stressing about tribal https://media.vanityfair.com/photos/58c16a15208b4945c3920cf0/master/w_1600%2Cc_limit/nicole-kidman-seal-clap.gif

Second tribal of the game for me and I am feeling good once again. i see myself in a position where I dont think i am being targeted and I really just have room to grow and form my social relationships. I feel bad for connor cause I think he will be going home barring anything crazy happening. He was someone I wanted to work with going into this game, but ill be honest his social game is just abysmal he needs to talk to people more. I originally thought he was just not talking to me cause he assumed we were good but apparently everone feels like they cant have a convo with him. Its way too early for me to do something crazy and deviate so I think hes gonna be blindsided tonight. Maybe I want to lock down a final 2 with TJ soon im starting to trust him more and more and hopefully he feels the same way. Im pretty confident that were gonna merge at 12 because thats the first time my legacy advantage is coming into play but im not sharing that information, that power is as locked to the chest as can be I will not tell a soul all game about it, thats how you become a fan favourite game changer sierra dawn thomas and I will not be her, married to joe anglim what a thought. Im off focus, either way Ive talked a lot about feeling very rocky in this game so far and feeling like I havent found my footing, but Im getting a foundation built now and once I get going, theirs no stopping me.

Is it seriously only Day 14..? Ugh, this game drags on for so, so long. Tonight is gonna be deja vu of Kvaloya in which I once again send home Connor, hopefully unanimously again. I respond to his fucking messages, and he's doing his best Amanda Kimmel "go girl, give us nothing!" impersonation right now. It's ANNOYING. I can't work with someone who does this!

oh duncan. oh duncan duncan duncan. every single time we play together you underestimate me as a player and it is infuriating? so this time you don't want an alliance with me? that's fine... but don't think i wont find out. i'm literally my blood is boiling that he thinks he can get away with this... grr. but also i love autumn for telling me, it shows me i can trust her and we are gonna go the distance. anyway so i do think connor is going to leave tonight and me freaking out will only make it me instead... so i will go with it. but now im waiting to see what jordan and tj say... and to see if they tell me. i dont think tj will tell me, but i do think jordan BETTER. i'm defending him to autumn, so he owes me plus he says we are a duo so he better JKASLDFAF. so now? i feel like i need to trust adam and stop being so nervous to trust him... he is on the bottom with me and we need to flip this upside DOWN. if me/adam link up, that will be good... because im not down to be stuck on the bottom for more than a vote... being on the bottom is how to go home and that's not my thing

So now that the vote is looming, I think that we have it fully on Connor now. Duncan and I came up with the fake vote of Adam which Connor seemed to take? Although he's asking questions that seem fishy, so let's just hope he buys it. And Duncan and I made an alliance of me, him, Jordan, and Autumn which is perfect to have going into merge. I still need to figure out how best to integrate the two so that they can know Jakey is going to work with us but not enough so that they don't know that me/Jakey/Jordan also have an alliance together. But this is awesome going into the next round, and I'm just praying that we don't see an idol played, because that would be DISASTER!

the way i've called adam shady for days and days and now i trust him one of the most? wow a growth arc. i'm still heated about duncan. he is SOO likable and charismatic, and is someone who is genuinely always just fun to play with? so him being in this gamebot really dry state is so frustrating because ik if he just relaxed and let his natural personality out he would snap?! he is just so fixated on doing well this season that he is getting in his own way (at least imo, but this is coming from mr im not in an alliance so im bitter KJSAFD). so anyway now that duncan is not a viable ally anymore, i need to solidify the other connections... and i think adam and autumn are the move. adam is clearly just desperate for allies and while he is over-eager, i think he is earnest so ill stop being paranoid about him. autumn is just a queen and a goddess so im gonna stick with her too... liam is lovely too... i just want duncan OUTTTTTTTTTTT he will not get away with this, i am the meddling kid(s) who will ruin his plans... will duncan go to the end as the gamebot leader... well... https://gph.is/2dmg9hV

also can i just say i love tj?! like i sent duncan very similar messages about feeling like i've been out of it, and the difference in their responses is remarkable: tj: I think everyone understands that you haven't been 100% the last few days, so I doubt anyone is going to fault you for that. And everyone knows that it's a game, real life does come first. like... sweet, supportive without being patronising? validating duncan: and i don't think things have really kicked off over here yet, i think its going to be an "easy vote" but we'll see what happens duncan.... immediately to game, almost his own conversation... i'm... over it?

well we have tribal in just a few hours, and tonight it's gonna be pretty clear cut in the sense that, ill finally have answers because um it's either gonna be me or connor ive been doing my best to lead this smear campaign against him, only because he made the wrong move by coming for me first and continuing to lie to my face about it so at this point i wish i felt bad but i dont. I could be completely delusional but I do think it's working because people have come to ME first and said they want to vote connor, because of both what i was saying and because he just hasnt been talking to many people besides right after the challenge so like... people can see how transparent that is pls also because MULTIPLE people have approached me first today telling me he plans on voting me out so unless they're specializing in some hardcore reverse psychology...i think i have a shot at it being 7-1 connor but once again i literally could be being made out to be a whole ass goof and not even know. or even worst have got all the numbers on my side but then get idol'ed out fdhaskj both very likely scenarios because things never seem this easy in this game ive been trying my best to get to know people and i feel like im slowly connecting more with some of them, so i guess tonight at tribal will be a test on those relationships because all the people ive been talking to will either, believe me, trust me, and wanna play with me, or theyre gonna listen to connor and vote me out, and honestly if they vote me out over him then i completely deserve to go home because clearly im doing something wrong my biggest fear is im hoping i havent come off too strong trying to play by painting this narrative of the old hathor's and connor being so against me, because while yes obviously i want connor gone for my own reasons, the trick is i dont want people to think im leading a charge against him (even tho i absolutely am) because i dont want that kinda target on me but truly who the fuck knows, i could very well go home but idk. this game is like walking into a serial killer convention and trying to stay alive, that's how i feel like im putting my faith in the hands of killers, it's making a bitch shook so i guess we'll see but in a perfect world..... connor will leave....which may look bad because of old tribe lines, but im really trying to wor any magic i have to where me being the only beauty on this tribe would be beneficial for me to hopefully be sought after by any brawns or brains, but if you ask me old tribe lines are about to be nonexistent. even though there will be 4 brawns next round, ive been trying to connect to some of them in the hopes that theyll ditch any old alliance they have to work with me but only time will tell so um yeah keep me in your thoughts and prayers pls

Not gonna lie, I haven't done much of anything this round but I don't mind it! Sometimes I just wanna be a lazy bitch yknow? But yeah, Thoth FINALLY beat its 0 challenge wins curse and we won immunity which I am thankful for given tribal would've been extremely messy? With the Kendall vote last round (which I think was Jakey or Jakey telling Dan to do so), who knows what would've been the outcome! Yay for safety <3

hiiiii no video because i no longer want to do them. let the record show that i was the 1st to say adam's name, if he goes, i did that. if i go, i did that.  

i didn't make a confessional this round and tribal is about to start! im going to expect connor to go but this would be a shitty last confessional if i go home tonight. I'm hoping to establish trust within this new tribe. Wish me luck! XOXO Gossip Girl. also my dog just ate the cake i left on the counter >.> thats why im late.

I can't give y'all a real confessional right now cause Cagayan has me screaming but I believe Connor is going home 7-1 and I gave the green light to an alliance I plan on turning on whew so see y'all soon

So basically, tribal happened, beauties lost a number unanimously, theres pros and cons to this. Pros: ppl think the idol left, beauty is less threatening, we show loyalty to more people and build relationships. Bad: someone lied. that kendall throw away vote was to ensure a beauty went home in case aj played an idol, and everyone claims it wasnt them, so someone on this tribe has a case of the LIE-ABETES. * anyway, here is Shit I learned today aka dirt on ppl: 🎃Devon - told me that dan was afraid of an all beauties thing 🎃Jakey - told me dan Ali him and Jordan were a majority - told me Ali has the idol - told me Ali is a rat who warned lovelis - called Adam annoying and ugly - said he wants Devon out next - thinks Devon voted kendall 🎃 scott - told me Devon screwed him over and got himself voted out on brains - told me autumn and Duncan are a duo 🎃 Dan - told jakey that he thinks the brains tribe voted kendall to divide beauty and brawn 🎃 kendall - hidden secret alliance with Jakey - hates dan 🎃 augusto - super close with Devon - wants to blindside Jakey - thinks Jakey is the kendall vote 

[rahkshirock]

Hey its cool ^_^ honestly i dont often post my own opinions on tumblr often; my blog is pretty much entirely other blogs

I kind of have a weird emotional space with fans of a show where if a space is too negative i tend to back out of it? I limited my sphere of homestuck people who i listened to pretty severely because of that, because i dont really like getting angry about shows or comics anymore.

With homestuck, the fandom unpleasentness came at a point in my life where i couldnt emotionally separate my dissatisfaction with my lack of engagement with the later parts of the story, and the toxic whirlwind of conjecture after the retcon

And so i shut myself off from it.

Now though, i like to think ive grown up a bit, and while i like steven universe a whole lot, its update schedule limits my emotional reaction to its individual twists and turns, meaning i watch an episode at face value and move on to other things. I often cant remember the broader context of some scenes since i havent watched some of the show for a year and a half.

I kind of just have to accept that at this point, and have.

As such, when looking at the fandom, i think i see an overarching major issue with their engagement with this text: the update schedule makes it so that the denoument of certain intensely climactic scenes is delayed by months. One steven bomb willhave a firecracker like “rose killed pink diamond” and then there is no emotional closure for months.

I am an emotionally intellegent adult, and i can recognize that that part of the story is delayed, and reserve judgement.

The majority of steven universes fanbase? Or at least the vocal part of it? Flips their shit.

Their denoument is a collective reexamination of all of the text up to that point, but with half the text out of sight.

In this case, the revelations of this last episode are a climax for the entire emotional arc for every single character in the entire show, (except maybe the townsfolk) but we dont know what they feel about this going foreward.

We know an answer without knowing all of the questions

(Homestuck, interestingly enough, would use its non linear narrative to show a character change their behavior because of an event that we havent seen yet, so when a climactic moment happened, the text was all there. When act 6 happened and homestuck turned linear again, we saw exactly this type of negative fandom reaction)

I think thats the reason for all the bad takes in su discourse rightnow (excluding the opinions of people convinced you have to hate one character to like another) since alot of these guys are still emotionally immature, (speaking as someone who was that not very long ago) and probably a product of the american public school system, which doesnt teach that colonialism is wrong :/ unfortunately the fact that the tumblr space affirms all of these takes via peer support means they probably wont be open to a more nuanced take then “rose was evil, actually” and jokes that are funny to me in a shallow way might be affirming to some other peoples bad takes.

On the issue of right to privacy, yeah i pretty much agree whole heartedly. The pearl issue to me is a big fat question which im pretty sure will be answered next episode. We litteraly know that the decision was made, that it has been hurting pearl recently, and nothing else.

At any rate, i think i might try to articulate these thoughts better on a separate post, but thanks @dukeofriven for this discussion. Its let me articulate some thoughts that have been swimming around in my head for a while now.

[allofbeercom]

After the Circus by Patrick Modiano – extract

Read an exclusive extract from the Nobel prize winners mysterious, romantic classic set on Parisian streets filled with dreamy unease and quiet menace now available to English readers in a new translation by Mark Polizzotti

I was eighteen, and the man whose face I dont recall was typing up my legal status, address, and supposed student enrollment as fast as I could state them. He asked how I spent my free time.

I paused for a few seconds.

I go to movies and bookstores.

You dont just go to movies and bookstores.

He cited the name of a café. No matter how often I repeated that Id never set foot in the place, I could tell he didnt believe me. Finally, he contented himself with typing the following:

I go to movies and bookstores. I have never been to the Café de la Tournelle, at number 61 on the quay of that name.

Then more questions about my activities and my parents. Yes, I took literature courses at the university. There was no danger in telling him that lie: I really had enrolled in the program, but only to prolong my draft deferment. As for my parents, they were both abroad and I had no idea when theyd return, if ever.

Then he mentioned the names of a man and a woman and asked if I knew them. I answered no. He told me to think very carefully. If I didnt tell the truth, there could be serious consequences. The threat was delivered in a calm, indifferent voice. No, really, I didnt know those two individuals. He typed my answer, then handed me the sheet, at the bottom of which was written: Seen and agreed to. I didnt bother looking over my deposition and signed with a ballpoint pen that was lying on the desk.

Before leaving, I asked why Id had to submit to that interrogation.

Your name was in someones address book.

But he didnt say who that someone was.

Well be in touch if we need you again.

He saw me to the door of his office. In the hallway, on the leather bench, sat a girl of about twenty-two.

Youre next, he said to the girl.

She stood up. We exchanged glances. Through the door that hed left ajar, I saw her sit down in the same chair that Id occupied a moment earlier.

* * *

I found myself back on the quay. It was around five in the afternoon. I walked toward the Pont Saint-Michel, thinking that I might wait for the girl to come out after her interrogation. But I couldnt just loiter about police head-quarters. I decided to bide my time in the café on the corner of Boulevard du Palais, where it meets the quay. And what if she had gone in the opposite direction, toward the Pont-Neuf ? The thought never occurred to me.

I was seated near the window, my eyes fixed on the Quai des Orfèvres. Her interrogation lasted much longer than mine. Night had already fallen when I saw her walking toward the café.

As she was passing by, I tapped on the window with the back of my hand. She looked at me in surprise, then came inside to join me.

She sat down at my table as if we knew each other and had made a date. She was the first to speak.

Did they ask you a lot of questions?

My name was in someones address book.

Do you know who?

They wouldnt tell me. But maybe you can shed some light.

She knitted her brow.

Shed light on what?

I figured your name must have been in that address book, too, and they were questioning you about the same thing.

No. With me, it was just to give evidence.

She seemed preoccupied. It felt like she was slowly forgetting I was there. I kept silent. Then she smiled. She asked how old I was. I said twenty-one, making myself three years older: legal age, at the time.

Do you have a job?

I deal in used books, I said randomly, in a tone I tried to make convincing.

She looked at my face, no doubt wondering if she could trust me.

Will you do me a favor? she asked.

* * *

At Place du Châtelet, she wanted to take the metro. It was rush hour. We stood squeezed together near the doors. At every station, the riders getting off pushed us onto the platform. Then we got back on with the new passengers. She leaned her head on my shoulder and said with a smile that no one could find us in this crowd.

At the Gare du Nord metro stop, we were carried along in the flood of travelers heading for the commuter trains. We crossed through the train station lobby, and in the checkroom she opened a locker and pulled out a black leather suitcase.

I carried the suitcase, which was rather heavy. It occurred to me that it contained more than just clothes. The metro again, same line but in the opposite direction. This time we found seats. We got off at Cité.

At the end of the Pont-Neuf, we waited for the light to turn red. I was feeling increasingly anxious. I wondered how Grabley would greet us when we arrived at the apartment. Shouldnt I tell her about Grabley, so that his presence there wouldnt catch her off guard?

We walked past the Hôtel des Monnaies. I heard the clock on the Institut de France chime nine p.m.

Are you sure no one will mind if I come to your place? she asked.

Nope. No one.

There were no lights in the apartment windows facing the quay. Had Grabley gone to his room, on the courtyard side? Normally he parked his car in the middle of the little square that forms a recess between the Hôtel des Monnaies and the Institut, but it wasnt there.

I opened the door on the fourth floor and we walked through the foyer. We entered the room that had served as my fathers office. Light fell from a naked bulb dangling from the ceiling. No furniture left, except for an old couch with dark red leaf patterns.

I set the suitcase down next to the couch. She went to the window.

You have a nice view . . .

To the left was one end of the Pont des Arts and the Louvre. Directly in front, the tip of Ile de la Cité and the small Vert-Galant park.

We sat on the couch. She looked around her and seemed amazed by the sparseness of the room.

Are you moving out?

I told her that, unfortunately, we had to vacate the premises in a month. My father had gone to Switzerland to live out his days.

Why Switzerland?

It really was too long a story for that evening. I shrugged. Grabley would be back any minute. How would he react when he saw the girl and her suitcase? I was afraid he would call my father in Switzerland, and that the latter, in a last gasp of parental dignity, would try to play the noble paterfamilias, lecture me about my studies and endangered future. But he was wasting his time.

Im tired . . .

I suggested she lie down on the couch. She hadnt removed her raincoat. I remembered that the heating no longer worked.

Are you hungry? I can go get something from the kitchen . . .

She sat on the couch, legs folded under her, resting on her heels.

Dont go to any trouble. Maybe just something to drink . . .

The light in the foyer had gone off. The bow window in the wide front hall leading to the kitchen lit the room with pale glimmers, as if there were a full moon out. Grabley had left the light on in the kitchen. In front of the old dumbwaiter stood an ironing board on which I recognized the trousers of his glen plaid suit. He ironed his own shirts and other clothes. On the folding table, where I sometimes took my meals with him, was an empty yogurt jar, a banana peel, and a packet of instant coffee. He must have eaten in. I found two yogurts, a slice of salmon, some fruit, and a bottle of whiskey three-quarters empty. When I returned, she was reading one of the magazines that Grabley had let pile up for several weeks on the office mantelpiece, risqué periodicals, as he called them, for which he had a great fondness.

I set the tray down in front of us, on the floor.

She had left the magazine open next to her and I could make out the black-and-white photo of a naked woman, seen from behind, hair tied in a ponytail, left leg extended, right leg bent, her knee resting on a mattress.

Interesting reading matter youve got . . .

No, those arent mine . . . They belong to a friend of my fathers.

She bit into an apple and poured herself some whiskey.

What have you got in that suitcase? I asked.

Oh, nothing much . . . Some personal effects . . .

It was heavy. I thought it was stuffed with gold bricks.

She gave me a sheepish smile. She explained that she lived in a house not far from Paris, near Saint-Leu-la-Forêt, but the owners had come back unexpectedly last night. She preferred to leave, as she didnt really get along with them. Tomorrow she would go to a hotel, until she could find a permanent place to live.

You can stay here as long as you like.

I was sure that Grabley, after his initial surprise, would have no objections. As for my father, what he thought no longer mattered.

Are you getting sleepy?

I intended to give her the upstairs bedroom. I would sleep on the office couch.

I led the way, suitcase in hand, up the small inner staircase to the fifth floor. The room was as sparsely furnished as the office. A bed shoved against the back wall. The nightstand and bedside lamp were gone. I switched on the fluorescent lights in the two display cases, on either side of the fireplace, where my father kept his collection of chess pieces, although these had disappeared, along with the small Chinese armoire and the fake Monticelli canvas that had left a discoloration on the sky-blue paneling. I had consigned those three objects to an antiques dealer, a certain DellAversano, for him to sell.

Is this your room? she asked.

Yes.

I had set the suitcase in front of the fireplace. She went to the window, like before, in the office.

If you look all the way to the right, I told her, you can see the statue of Henri IV and the Tour Saint-Jacques.

She gazed distractedly at the rows of books between the two windows. Then she lay down on the bed and removed her shoes with a casual flick of her foot. She asked where I was going to sleep.

Downstairs on the couch.

Stay here, she said. I dont mind.

She had kept on her raincoat. I turned off the lights in the display cases. I lay down next to her.

Doesnt it feel cold to you?

She moved closer and gently rested her head on my shoulder. Lights and shadows shaped like window grates slid across the walls and ceiling.

Whats that? she asked.

The tour boat passing by.

* * *

<img class="gu-image" itemprop="contentUrl" alt="The" cafe aux deux magots in the saint germain district in 1960. the rue de rennes in the background, on the left. FRANCE – JANUARY 01: The cafe AUX DEUX MAGOTS in the Saint Germain district in 1960. The rue de Rennes in the background, on the left. (Photo by Keystone-France/Gamma-Keystone via Getty Images)” src=”https://i.guim.co.uk/img/media/fcfee192d71e0a16e7c185fc0366fd431d4f7db2/0_0_3508_2339/master/3508.jpg?w=300&q=85&auto=format&sharp=10&s=f330ada83013e1a7d2d29fafec406923″/>

Photograph: Gamma-Keystone via Getty Images

I awoke with a start. The front door had slammed.

She was lying against me, nude inside her raincoat. It was seven in the morning. I heard Grableys footsteps. He was making a phone call in the office. His voice grew louder and louder, as if he was arguing with someone. Then he left the office and went into his room.

She woke up as well and asked what time it was. She told me she had to be going. She had left some belongings in the house in Saint-Leu-la-Forêt and wanted to collect them as soon as possible.

I offered her breakfast. There was still some instant coffee in the kitchen and one of the boxes of Choco BN biscuits that Grabley always bought. When I returned to the fifth floor with the tray, she was in the large bathroom. She emerged, dressed in her black skirt and pullover sweater.

She said she would call me early that afternoon. She didnt have any paper on which to jot down my number. I took a book from the shelves and tore out the flyleaf, on which I wrote my name, address, and phone number: DANTON 55-61. She folded the paper in four and shoved it in one of her raincoat pockets. Then her lips brushed mine and she said in a low voice that she was grateful and was looking forward to seeing me again.

She walked along the quay toward the Pont des Arts.

I stood at the window for a few minutes, watching her distant silhouette cross the bridge.

I stashed the suitcase in the storage closet at the top of the stairs. I laid it flat on the floor. It was locked. I lay down again and breathed in her scent from the hollow of one of the pillows. She would eventually tell me why theyd questioned her yesterday afternoon. I tried to recall the names of the two people the detective had mentioned, asking whether I knew them. One of them sounded something like Beaufort or Bousquet. In whose address book had they found my name? Was he just trying to get information about my father? Hed asked which foreign country my father had gone to. I had covered his tracks by answering Belgium.

The week before, I had accompanied my father to the Gare de Lyon. He was wearing his old navy blue overcoat and his only luggage was a leather bag. We were early, and we waited for the Geneva train in the large restaurant on the upper level, from which we overlooked the lobby and railway tracks. Was it the late afternoon light? The golden hue on the ceiling? The chandeliers that shone down on us? My father suddenly seemed old and tired, like someone who has been playing cat and mouse for far too long and is about to give up.

The only book he brought with him for the trip was called The Hunt. He had recommended it to me several times, because the author mentioned our apartment, where hed lived twenty years earlier. What a strange coincidence . . . Hadnt my fathers life, in certain periods, resembled a hunt in which he was the prey? But so far, hed managed to elude his captors.

We were facing each other over our coffee. He was smoking, cigarette dangling from the corner of his lips. He talked about my schooling and my future. As he saw it, it was all well and good to want to write novels, as I intended, but it was safer to earn a few diplomas. I kept quiet, listening to him. Words like diplomas, stable situation, profession sounded odd in his mouth. He pronounced them with respect and a kind of nostalgia. After a while, he fell silent, exhaled a cloud of smoke, and shrugged.

We didnt exchange another word until he climbed onto the train and leaned out the lowered window. I had remained on the platform.

Grabley will live with you in the apartment. Afterward, well make a determination. Youll have to rent someplace else.

But he had said it without any conviction. The train for Geneva lurched forward, and at that moment it felt as if I were seeing that face and that navy blue coat pull away forever.

At around nine oclock, I went down to the fourth floor. I had heard Grableys footsteps. He was sitting on the office couch in his plaid bathrobe. Next to him was a tray carrying a cup of tea and a Choco BN. He hadnt shaved and his features were drawn.

Good morning, Obligado . . .

He called me by that nickname because of a friendly wager wed had. One evening, we had arranged to meet in front of a cinema on Avenue de la Grande-Armée. He had told me to get off at the Obligado metro stop. The stop was really called Argentine, but he refused to believe it. We had made a bet, which Id won.

I only got two hours sleep last night. I made my rounds.

He stroked his blond mustache and squinted.

Same places as usual?

The very ones.

His rounds invariably started at eight oclock at the Café des Deux Magots, where he had an aperitif. Then he crossed over to the Right Bank and stopped at Place Pigalle. He stayed in that neighborhood until dawn.

And what about you, Obligado?

I put a girlfriend up last night.

Does your father know?

No.

You should ask him if its all right. Im sure Ill be getting a call.

He imitated my father when he wanted to appear serious and responsible, but it rang even less true than the original.

And what sort of young lady is she?

His face took on the unctuous expression with which he suggested, every Sunday morning, that I go to Mass with him.

First of all, shes not a young lady.

Is she pretty?

I saw on his face the smug, flattering smile of the traveling salesman in some random station bar who over a beer tells you how he got lucky.

My girlfriend last night wasnt too bad either . . .

His tone became aggressive, as if we were suddenly in competition. I no longer remember what I felt at the time, with that seated man, in the empty office that looked as if it had been vacated at a moments notice, its furniture and paintings pawned or repossessed. He was my fathers stand-in, his factotum. They had met when very young on a beach on the Atlantic coast, and my father had corrupted this petty bourgeois Frenchman. For thirty years, Grabley had lived in his shadow. The only habit he retained from his childhood and good upbringing was to attend Mass every Sunday.

Will you introduce me to your girlfriend?

He gave me a complicit wink.

We could even go out together, if you like . . . Im fond of young couples.

I pictured us, her and me, in Grableys car as it crossed over the Seine and headed toward Pigalle. A young couple. One evening Id accompanied him to the Deux Magots, before he headed off on his usual rounds. We were sitting near the windows. I had been surprised to see him greet in passing a couple of about twenty-five: the woman blonde and very graceful, the man dark and overly elegant. He had even gone to talk to them, standing next to their table, while I watched from my seat. Their age and appearance marked such a sharp contrast with Grableys old-world manners that I wondered what fluke could have brought them together. The man seemed amused by what Grabley was saying, but the woman was more detached. Taking his leave, Grabley had shaken the mans hand and given the woman a ceremonious nod. When we left, he introduced them to me, but Ive forgotten their names. Then hed told me that the young man was a very useful contact and that hed met him during his rounds in Pigalle.

You seem pensive, Obligado . . . Are you in love?

He had gotten up and was standing in front of me, hands in the pockets of his bathrobe.

I need to spend all day at the office. I have to sift through the paperwork from seventy-three and move it out.

That was an office my father had rented on Boulevard Haussmann. I often used to go meet him there at the end of the afternoon. A corner room with a very high ceiling. Daylight entered through four French windows overlooking the boulevard and Rue de lArcade. Filing cabinets against the walls and a massive desk with an assortment of inkwells, blotters, and a writing case.

What did he do there? Each time, I would find him on the telephone. After thirty years, I happened across an envelope, on the back of which was printed the name of an ore refining company, the Société Civile dEtudes et Traitements de Minerais, 73 Boulevard Haussmann, Paris 8.

You and your girlfriend can come pick me up at seventy-three. Well go have dinner together . . .

I dont think shes free this evening.

He seemed disappointed. He lit a cigarette.

Well, anyway, call me at seventy-three to let me know your plans . . . Id love to meet her . . .

I was thinking I had to keep a bit of distance, or else wed have him on our backs nonstop. But Ive never been very good at saying no.

This is an extract from After the Circus by Patrick Modiano, published on 21 January by Yale University Press at £10.99. Visit the Guardian Bookshop to preorder it for £8.79.

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/after-the-circus-by-patrick-modiano-extract/

[bites-kms]

Silence is the most powerful scream

“How come I didn’t know about this sooner?” “Why no one told me about this atrocity?” “Why dont they teach this at school?” “What was the world doing while this shit was happening?” 

Those were the questions I remember asking to myself, without finding any appropriate nor satisfying answer. I sat down on one of the first right rows of the tour bus which was taking us to the Phnom Phen New Market. I was almost in an incredulous mode, wondering and thinking, feeling and crying, shivering and with goose bumps, looking and asking non sense questions to my friend Gabriel, who was sitting as perplex as me on the opposite seat.

We just left the S-21 memorial, ex torture chamber and ex-ex-school. It was such a moving experience. I had to spend 6 years processing - 3 of them living in Asia, meeting and caring for people who I now call family and a 2.5 hrs movie for me to understand how deep it touched me. Only now I can write something about it.

The S-21, also known as Tuol Sleng, was the Khmer Rouge's main prison and torture center. It’s unbelievable that a place that once was used as a happy, gathering and learning den for kids became such thing. I think this is the key element that makes the whole experience even more perverse. Everything is as it was: the desk that once taught stories, grammar and math, where now chained to the floor and used as torture devices where to sit people while questioning them, punishing them and killing them softly. 

The Communist Party of Kampuchea (CPK), also known as the Khmer Rouge (Red Khmer) ruled Cambodia from April 17, 1975, until January 1979. In 1976, the Khmer Rouge established the state of Democratic Kampuchea.

In the four years that the Khmer Rouge ruled Cambodia, it was responsible for one of the worst mass killings of the 20th Century. The brutal regime claimed the lives of up to two million people, more than a quarter of the total population. 

Under the Marxist leader Pol Pot, the Khmer Rouge tried to take Cambodia back to the Middle Ages, forcing millions of people from the cities to work on communal farms in the countryside.

But this dramatic attempt at social engineering had a terrible cost. Entire families died from execution, starvation, disease and overwork. My Vietnamese friends witnessed part of the horror and their stories still echo in my mind, giving me the chills every time I remember them. 

Just by wearing reading glasses you would get killed. According to them, you “looked” as an intellectual, and the revolution couldnt afford any mistakes. Pol Pot used to say “better to kill an innocent by mistake than spare an enemy by mistake”. And so they did. Blank range shoot to your forehead by wearing glasses in the middle of the street, just in case. If you were an artist, forget it. If you were a teacher, you needed to lie about your profession. If you were a dancer or a performer, your life may be spared but your limbs would be cut off. If you were a monk, you were consider a “parasite” to society and you were either slaved into force labor or killed in an instant without hesitation. 

Another terrifying aspect of this atrocity was that most of the affected people were kids: boys and girls who were left without family, who turned into their brother and sisters for support, who were considered as wet mud to shape the perfect army of soldiers and revolution devotees, children who never before were exposed to guns nor violence, but that now were building bombs, explosives and other kind of deadly machines and artillery. 

The Killing Fields is how the deadly extermination camp near Choeung Ek village is called. Today, it is the site of a Buddhist memorial to the victims, and Tuol Sleng has a museum commemorating the genocide. The memorial park at Choeung Ek has been built around the mass graves of many thousands of victims, most of whom were executed after interrogation at the S-21 Prison in Phnom Penh. The majority of those buried at Choeung Ek were Khmer Rouge victims during the purges within the regime. Many dozens of mass graves are visible above ground, many which have not been excavated yet. Commonly, bones and clothing surface after heavy rainfalls due to the large number of bodies still buried in shallow mass graves. It is not uncommon to run across the bones or teeth of the victims scattered on the surface as one tours the memorial park. If these are found, visitors are asked to notify a memorial park officer or guide.

It was hardcore. Indeed. I was perplex. I remember a daunting silence while some chipping birds interrupted, as a wake up call to your trance. Once again, I  didnt realize how deep and how much it impacted me until I realized I needed to write about what happened in Cambodia in a meaningful way. 

But Cambodia should not be defined by atrocities nor sad events; on the contrary, these issues fostered one of the most grateful, cheerful and beautiful people in SEA. This actually drives me quite angry, specially with Cambodia, but unfortunately is an common western issue: people associate South East Asian countries with poverty, prostitution or communism, instead of focusing on the good side of them: their people, their rich history, their safety, their delicious food and their breathtaking views. So hey you, Western Tourist! Stop being a tourist and start becoming a traveler! You are missing so MUCH you wont believe. Forget your Instagram account and start interacting with these wonderful people - dont read the lonely planet, read novels, watch movies, talk to locals. Travel with your mind and heart as much as you can travel with your feet. 

Due to the recent war, there are many orphanages in Phnom Penh and all around the country, and some of the people who were traveling with me had very strong feelings regarding this: they didnt want to interact whatsoever with these institutions, since they believed they were forcing kids into child-labor. Of course I had a different perspective on the matter: teaching skills such as cooking, sewing, crafts  is something worth learning, it is not very different from another technical skill they can learn at school. The money which they gain by selling those items (not at the street, but on the orphanage itself) went either to them (if they were considered old enough) creating a feeling of pride and ownership or to the institution as a whole to use for food and infrastructure for the place. I didn't buy anything (coz there’s still a portion of me that doubts about the actually destination of the money) but I was and I am still convinced that my presence there made a change: even if its was for only those 20 mins we shared, those kids were happier and laughing because of us, they were practicing English, they felt important, they loved the pictures, they hang the polaroids on their walls, they were truly and sincerely full of joy. And that, is already worthy.

Not only the kids and their happiness is something worth mentioning and remembering but also the majestic shape and feeling of Angkor Wat. At the beginning, this was the only thing I knew about Cambodia, but then it transformed into the temple which opened the door to so much more Cambodia to see and admire behind its walls. 

It is the the biggest and best kept hindi temple in the world. It is considered as the biggest religious structured ever built and one of the most important archeological treasures of the world. I am happy the the Google Cultural Center and Phibious (an agency I am proud to had called home) got together to make this amazing event happened and took Angkor to the World with Google Street View. 

It was built by the Khmer King Suryavarman II in the early 12th century in Yaśodharapura (Khmer: យសោធរបុរៈ, present-day Angkor), the capital of the Khmer Empire, as his state temple and eventual mausoleum. Breaking from the Shaiva tradition of previous kings, Angkor Wat was instead dedicated to Vishnu. As the best-preserved temple at the site, it is the only one to have remained a significant religious centre since its foundation. The temple is at the top of the high classical style of Khmer architecture. It has become a symbol of Cambodia, appearing on its national flag, and it is the country's prime attraction for visitors.

Today, Im happy to claim that Cambodia - along with the rest of South East Asia- stole a piece of my heart and this is just a little tribute I am making to this great Country, who is only as great as its people and faith. 

[ellimac2016-blog]

Warmth of a Thousand Suns- Ch. 2

Thank you to the one person who liked chapter one! That was enough for me to continue so heres the second chapter. Still PG rated at this point. ___________________________________________

Yuri couldn’t stop thinking and couldn’t pay attention to his work. Not only was it friday and he could have the weekend to relax away from his dim lifeless cubicle, but he had Viktors wallet in his pocket waiting to return to its owner tonight. As Yuri left Viktor’s apartment upon their first meeting he quickly grabbed, what he thought was his, wallet on the counter, incidentally it was not. Now Yuri is fidgeting and wondering how to go about returning it in his head.

“Should I go back to his apartment and ring the bell? I don’t know any other place to find him. What about how I left last time? Will Viktor be mad? Did he even notice how unsettled I was? Did he care? I was nothing more than a muddy mistake during his morning run, right? Should I leave it in his mail box and not even see him, but I really want to see him.. I really want to see him?”

Yuri groaned and sneered at himself under his breath

“shit”

Viktor sure knew how to consume Yuri’s thoughts even though they just met. He was just so damn striking. He was beautiful, kind, and for some reason Yuri just felt like he had to see him again. When Viktor was around, for the first time in many years, Yuri felt alive. His whole world has been grey and dim, suddenly with Viktor its silver and the sky is the most vibrant blue it has ever been.

“Hey dreamer how’s that translation coming?”

Phichit leaned his head on Yuris shoulder, he was so startled he let out a little squeal like a mouse. Yuri had known Phichit since their university days and they had been best friends since. In fact Phichit was probably his only friend. They both studied language in college and now work together doing translations for a variety of different outlets. Of course Phichit was more skilled than Yuri and the thai man had become the supervisor in Yuri’s division. Everyone around Yuri seemed so much more than him. They were always more talented, clever, sociable, and attractive. Phichit was no exception. Thinking back again to Viktor his Yuri hung his head thinking that even Phichit would look better next to Viktor. In contrast to Viktors silver hair and fair skin, Phichit had tanned skin and medium brown hair. He was also tall and very fit with a huge bright smile and the personality to match. There didn’t seem to be much space in Viktors world of diamonds for a rock like Yuri.

“Hello? Earth to Yuriiiiiiii”

Phichit began to hum in his ear

“Im here, im here boss”

Yuri hummed back with a weak smile knowing Phichit hated when Yuri referred to him as his boss, even though it was only true.

“Whats going on with you? You seem down, well not really down, but distracted today. One minute you have a goofy smile and the next you’re frowning. Plus-” Phichit points to yuris computer screen “-the day is almost over and you haven’t even finished the first of three translations you wanted to do today”

Yuri cringes, of course now even his work performance was becoming lackluster.

“seriously what’s going on? Its unlike you to be so unfocused and filled with emotions. Usually you work like a lifeless robot”

Phichit teased and started to do the robot dance giggling. He always knew how to pull Yuri from his thoughts, unfortunately today he was in quite deep.

“Let’s take a break and I will tell you all about it”

Yuri sighed and walked with Phichit to the, luckily empty, breakroom. This wasn’t a conversation he particularly wanted people to hear.

Yuri inhaled deeply and decided to tell Phichit what happened that morning not leaving out even his inner monologue for each situation. By the end he realized how eventful his morning really was.

“So… in short-”

Phichit began with a little grin and took a deep breath and began to summarize, rather crudely and quickly

“- you got tackled by a hot russian guys dog, covered in mud, went to hot guys apartment to shower and change, found out hot guy was an author that thinks you’re cute, plus he is also gay, and then you ran out not understanding that your feelings meant ‘hey me I think I want to jump hot foreign man that thinks i’m cute’”?

Yuris mouth had fallen open half way through Which Its description and now he was red up to his ears

“P-Phichit! T-that’s not at all what h-happened! And did your not hear the whole he’s beautiful and i’m me section of my explanation!”

Yuri was very obviously flustered at this point and began to regret telling Phichit, who was very open about all things risque and played on both fields of sexuality. Yuri could feel the embarrassed heat flood his body and began to hang his head low again.

“Yuri-”

Phichits voice suddenly got serious

“I don’t think you see yourself the way others do. I told you same thing back in college once didn’t I”?

A whole different blush flooded Yuris face now. Phichit did tell Yuri this once in college. When they were both drunk and laying together practically naked while Phichit tried to convince Yuri that he was actually quite sexy and couldn’t believe he had never been with anyone. This was the same day Yuri found out Pichit would become romantically involved with anyone of any sex or orientation. Nothing happened between them that night because after Phichit ranted about how he was going to solve Yuri’s ‘virgin problem’ he promptly fell asleep. The next day he told Yuri he couldn’t remember a thing. Yuris voice came out as a whisper

“Y-you told me you couldnt remember that night?! How much do you remember?!”

Yuris eyes began to sting as if he might tear up or cry of embarrassment.

“To be honest I remember all of it. I wasn’t as drunk as you were”

Phichits voice lowered a little

“I acted like I didn’t because you were my first crush in college, but even after you got drunk you kept turning me down, no matter how much I tried to flaunt myself at you. I didn’t want you to know I remembered in case the friendship would end there. I accepted it and decided I wanted to be your friend if nothing more. I had just never had anyone not be attracted to me before.”

Phichit laughed at the last part. It was clear he was over what had happened back then, but felt bad about lying to Yuri all these years. Yuri felt almost mad at Phichit and his, what seemed to be a heavy misunderstanding. Yuri quickly blurted his response without thinking it through carefully.

“I WAS attracted to you. You were stunning too! You always have been and that’s why I felt that I didn’t fit. You’re like Viktor, you’re a diamond and i’m a rock Phichit. It had nothing to do with attraction and desire. It was just….”

Yuri got quiet knowing he has said too much, but he at least wanted to finish his response. Even if it came out as a whisper

“it was just I had no confidence and I was sure in the morning you would blame being with someone like me on the fact we were drunk.”

Phichit began to laugh. Not a little snicker but full on rolling laughter like a thunder storm. He even had to wipe away a tear in Yuri’s surprise.

“Yuri no. No. No. No.-”

Phichit was still laughing and talking in a serious but playful way to his best friend.

“- you’re a diamond to. You may not be tall, or outgoing, and devilishly sexy-”

Phichit winked and Yuri couldn’t tell if he was trying to be helpful or of he was rubbing salt in an already aching wound

“- but you don’t have to be those things to be a diamond Yuri. I don’t think you really look in the mirror enough. You’re not tall. But you have a great build and even in a suit I can tell you must be incredibly strong. You’re shy and quiet but that has its own gentle attraction as well. Plus I have seen you when your personality comes out too. You’re the most dependable friend I have ever had and you have a sexy devilish side to. You’re very cute Yuri. Don’t sell yourself short.”

Yuris mouth was again wide open and he felt like he had a blush going across his entire body. No one had ever ranted like that to Yuri before. He always thought he was just a very typical looking japanese man. He didn’t realise how much that had held him back his whole life. Never having the confidence to show anyone his feelings or to get a partner in fear that they would leave him once they realised that he just isn’t that great. Yuri has the best friend he could have ever asked for. He is always there when Yuri needs him.

“Now go get yourself that sexy foreign man Yuri!”

All Yuri can do is nod meekly with a smile. It may take a while, but maybe he isn’t just a rock, but just in need of a good polish.

[heartfucksmouth]

Uhhh i can feel all the sensations washing over me and my hypervigilance kicking in. I can just … feel how fucking twitchy I get. Im just agitated still even though I’m exhausted. I dont want to sleep in case they come back. I keep looking out my door expecting them to be standing there throwing something through the glass. I already locked it.

I dont want to look the other neighbors in the eye… i want a cigarette. Im thinking too far ahead. I know. Just knowing they saw me like that. All the cops and DEA officers looking at me with concern while I paced up and down the street with my nails dug in my palms and trying to recite a word for each letter of the alphabet. I got stuck on A is for Apple forever and couldnt even think of the next letter.

Idk why im still thinking about it. I have a hard time letting go. I think cuz i dissociate so when i remember what happens i ruminate to convince myself its real and it happened.

Whats really bugging me is I texted my friend what happened right after I got inside……. but she never replied to me. But she liked my photo on instagram. And this is what I mean. I never ever open up to her or rely on her, and she gives me shit for it, then when I do, I dont even get a reply. I even told her I just wanted to let her know that it happened. But like. Just… tell me you love me? Something? My mom got hit in the face and I almost got run down by a truck and you…. dont… say anything? Thats what makes me overthink and assume my problems are too much and she doesnt wanna be around me anymore lol. So its whatever. Just had to put it somewhere cuz it just sucks and makes me sad. But people grow and shift. It could also be very unfortunate timing somehow where she didnt see my text… but was on instagram… yeah… that might be it.

All my muscles hurt so much, especially my chest/costochondritis flare and its going into my right arm and it suuuuucks. And my kneees. My ligaments feel like balloons from being stretched cuz ive had mt knees bent for ao long.

I cant stop rambling. Shush yourself and rest already

[cynthiamwashington]

Nine Doctors Couldn’t Help Me

It’s Monday, everyone! And that means another Primal Blueprint Real Life Story from a Mark’s Daily Apple reader. If you have your own success story and would like to share it with me and the Mark’s Daily Apple community please contact me here. I’ll continue to publish these each Monday as long as they keep coming in. Thank you for reading!

My primal journey started in 2010. I had just attended my last Weight Watchers meeting ever. I had been doing Weight Watchers since 2005, and was at my highest weight ever. I was massively obese, I was severely lethargic, and I lived with daily brain fog. I was having miscarriages, but was being told there was nothing wrong with me. I went to a new doctor who told me that when I got pregnant again, I should come in and immediately start running tests so that when I lost it, we might have some insight as to why.

That was at the end of April. I was depressed and desperate. My dad had stumbled onto Mark Sisson’s website and pushed me to try Primal eating. I was extremely skeptical. In 2001, when I had first started dealing with health issues, I had been diagnosed with peripheral insulin resistance and had tried the Atkins diet. I was living in a dorm room at the time and failed miserably. So I was skeptical about trying another low carb restrictive diet.

But what did I have to lose?

Within a month of going Primal, I had lost several pounds, my brain fog was slowly clearing, and my gut was healing (another problem I hadn’t realized existed!).

And in July, I got pregnant again. This time it stuck. My son was born 9 months later. After 3 miscarriages, I am firmly convinced that I stayed pregnant because of my diet changes, and I became a full Primal convert.

After my son was born, I immediately resumed my Primal lifestyle. His first real food was bacon, and he loved liver as soon as he was old enough for real food. I continued the Primal journey, and continued slowly losing the weight and regaining my health.

Then I got pregnant again. This pregnancy was a whole different situation. I had hyperemesis gravidarum for both pregnancies, but this time I couldn’t eat anything. I lived off of cinnamon rolls, as they were the only thing I seemed able to keep down, and I drank nothing but gatorade. I was miserable, I was unbelievably adverse to the smell of all meat so I couldn’t even try to be Primal. I developed eczema on my arm so badly that I had to wear sleeves to work so my clients wouldn’t think I’d contracted ringworm! Luckily, my daughter was born healthy. I ended that pregnancy 10 lbs above where I started. And then my health disappeared.

The rash on my arm never really went away. I soon had eczema on my legs as well. Furthermore, I was so constipated that I wouldn’t go to the bathroom for days at a time and had constant crippling, severe stomach cramps. I had horrible brain fog, and who knows how much of that was a daughter who wouldn’t sleep versus dietary issues.

But more importantly, when she was not quite a year old, I broke out with hives. At first we didn’t know what they were and thought they were bed bug bites! Finally we clued in and I went to the allergy doctor. I knew I was reactive to wheat. As soon as I had cut it out in 2010, I noticed I got sick every time I ate it. I was suspicious of eggs and dairy. But I tested positive to literally every single food, plant, and animal they tested me for with the exception of white fish!

He immediately confirmed that it was an allergy problem. But that night I ended up in the emergency room with full body, raised, angry red, large diameter hives (like inches in diameter). He put me on all sorts of steroids, antihistamines, and beta-blockers. I cut everything out of my diet, and literally ate nothing but unflavored ground beef and vegetables for months.

And the huge, angry, red, full-body hives never went away.

I went from the allergist through eight other doctors. I went to conventional doctors, homeopathic doctors, acupuncturists, herbalists, etc. The hives never went away. I finally took myself off of all meds because they were turning me into a zombie. Unfortunately, even off of meds, nothing improved. One doctor started me on progesterone, thinking it was a hormonal problem because my cycles were so irregular (they had been like clockwork up until my daughter), and that made me much sicker. Unfortunately, those side effects didn’t go away once I took myself back off the meds.

Finally, out of sheer desperation, I gave up. I stopped going to doctors. I cleaned my diet up to be 100% Primal. I started meditating daily. I changed my job to reduce the stress.

And between less stress and diet improvements, finally, the hives started to go away. It had been a year and a half. They weren’t gone completely until after the two year mark, and even as recently as a few months ago they’d still pop up if I became too stressed or ate the wrong things.

Since then, my health has been a slow improvement. The eczema slowly disappeared. My gut slowly healed. But my weight wouldn’t drop. All the signs that showed up when I was put on hormones (heavier periods, breasts that were so sore you couldn’t look at them for a full 2 weeks each cycle, twenty day cycles) were still present. And I was plateaued. I would drop to 188 lb (I’m 5’3), but could never get below that number.

I was stuck there for nearly 3 years. I was feeling better overall, but I was stuck. I would be extremely clean for about 2 months, then I would give up since my weight wasn’t shifting anyway. Then a week later I’d be back to Primal eating because the brain fog and low energy would have come back.

Finally, this last spring, I broke that plateau. I had been 100% Primal for a few months, finally, and everything suddenly balanced. My cycles regulated, I stopped being in pain, and my weight finally started to drop again.

It’s still a journey. I’m not quite to my ideal weight yet as I’ve hit several other plateaus since. But for someone who has been obese since they were 16, now that I finally know what works for me, I can be patient. And more importantly, being Primal allowed me to heal up such severe disease after nine doctors couldn’t help me that I became an even stronger advocate than I’d been before.

I was already a licensed veterinarian and was using Primal principles in my animal patients, but after finally healing my own body, I became a certified Primal Health Coach so I could help the humans as well!

So what have I done since I received my certification? Since I received my certification, my life has gone in all sort of directions!

I was already using Primal principles in my holistic veterinary practice. I have absolutely continued using those principles to help heal the pups who walk through my door, and I have created an educational website and Facebook group for owners interested in healing their pets through diet!

However, I still wanted to help people, too.

When I first graduated, I obtained two informal coaching clients. One was a friend of my mother’s who had suffered from IBD, allergies, inability to lose weight, and masses around her thyroid (although they said her thyroid values were normal).

When we first started talking, she was eating grains with most meals, avoiding fat, and filling her diet with things like vegetable oil!

The first thing we did was cut the grains and vegetable oil, reintroduce real foods, and increase the healthy fats.

Within a month, she had lost 20 pounds, her energy was returning, and her IBD was feeling more controlled than ever!

My other client was a friend of mine who had also suffered from IBD, but who also had her gallbladder removed a few years before. In addition, she couldn’t lose weight and had all sorts of fluctuations in her hormones.

Again, with nothing more than diet changes, she slowly started to recover. Her weight decreased more slowly, but it was the first time she had ever succeeded in getting it off! More importantly, the IBD that flared with every menstrual cycle started staying controlled, and her hormones started to balance.

However, that wasn’t the end of coaching for me.

Around this time, I started having other veterinarians approaching me, asking how I had changed my life around. I had gone from severely burned out and feeling trapped and desperate in my job to outsourcing myself from my own business, moving to another state, and learning to love life and travel again!

And they wanted to know how I had done it.

Well, the first answer to that question was that when I started to get my stress under control (which started with getting my diet and health under control), then changes just started to take place that allowed me to completely turn my lifestyle around.

So I also began coaching veterinarians and other health care professionals on how to change their lives around. That coaching isn’t just about health, but health is almost always a piece of what we have to cover since these are women under massive loads of stress, and we have to deal with the health effects of that stress.

Today, I do both health coaching and mindset coaching. I believe in helping people live their best lives, and I will use whatever means necessary to help them do that! So while much of my focus is on veterinarians and other health care professionals, I still do regular health coaching as well.

I teach people that it is definitely possible to live the life of your dreams, and in my case, it all started with learning about ancestral health!

– Jenny Elwell-Gerken

Jenny’s listing in the Primal Health Coach Institute Directory

Website: www.drjeg.com

The post Nine Doctors Couldn’t Help Me appeared first on Mark's Daily Apple.

Article source here:Marks’s Daily Apple

[vitalmindandbody]

How to get through chemotherapy: Decca Aitkenhead on cancer treatment

Before it happened to me, I never truly understood how terrible chemotherapy could be: no description can do it justice. But there are ways to ease its horrors that feature in none of the official advice, and I want everyone to know about them

If you were born after 1960, the odds that you will get cancer in your lifetime are now one in two. It is an extraordinary statistic. Even if you turn out to be one of the lucky ones, half of the people around your kitchen table this morning will at some point sit in a doctors surgery and be given the news that they have cancer. If the numbers continue in the same relentless direction, before long, it will be most of them.

Not all will have chemotherapy. The fortunate ones can be cured in other ways, while the truly unfortunate will have cancers chemo cannot treat. I met one of those unluckiest of souls only the other day. It hadnt occurred to me until then to feel very grateful for having been eligible for what was, without a doubt, the most unpleasant medical ordeal of my life.

Unpleasant is a word you hear a lot when people talk about chemo. It drove me to distraction when I was first diagnosed with breast cancer last summer, and was told I would undergo four months of chemotherapy. Like everyone else plunged into this frightening new world, I wanted to know what would happen. What would it be like?

Well, its doable, I read time and again, as I scanned online cancer forums for answers. Unpleasant but doable. It was maddening. Waiting to begin chemo is like being on medical death row; you know your body is about be attacked, but how it will feel is a sinister mystery, and unknowable dread only makes the waiting worse.

There is a reason for this inarticulacy. Human beings have had no historical need to evolve language applicable to the sensation of being systematically poisoned. Such a vocabulary has never before been necessary, so it does not exist. Chemotherapy patients are therefore obliged to deploy a limited repertoire of familiar but hopelessly inadequate substitutes; words that can only approximate to the experience, but fail to convey anything of its true essence. So we say that we are tired, and feel weak; that we have no energy, or feel somehow unrecognisably unlike ourselves. What we really mean and this doesnt capture it either, but its the best I can do is that we feel dead without having actually died. Chemotherapy strips away every last ounce of vitality or volition, until you are left only with the outward appearance of a living person. But you are a hollow husk, empty of all the essential constituents that make a person alive. It is a cruel irony that a drug designed to stop you dying makes you feel as if you have.

One of the many side-effects of chemotherapy of which Id been hitherto unaware is what it does to your brain. The medical profession was reluctant for many years to acknowledge a condition oncologists now call, with inelegant if commendable candour, chemo brain and like every other side-effect, it does not afflict everyone. But having witnessed the steady erosion of my own critical faculties, to the point where my IQ had sunk to marginally lower than my cats, I can testify that chemo makes some patients very, very stupid.

It is partly because of that that I hesitated to write this. A cancer diagnosis pitches you into a disorientating fog of confusing, alarming and often contradictory advice, which would be hard enough to navigate at the best of times. Trying to work out whats loopy and what might save your life or at least your sanity when you cant even follow the Jeremy Kyle Show can be profoundly frightening. Everyone is, of course, only trying to help, but when the stakes are so high and you cant think straight, the cacophony of advice is often counter-productive. I am reluctant to add to it.

Nevertheless, it is also the case that before I began chemotherapy I stumbled, quite by chance, upon two pieces of advice so invaluable that without them I do not like to think how I would have got through it. What is mystifying is why neither featured in a single NHS leaflet or cancer website I read. One is not cheap, and the other not easy, but both were more than worth it. I picked up some other tips along the way, which also feel worth sharing. So when anyone now asks me what advice I would offer to someone preparing for chemo, this is what I say.

Fake hair, real help

When I was first told I would have chemo, all I could think about was my hair. I would be having a double mastectomy, but losing my breasts didnt frighten me anything like as much as losing my hair. I remember feeling embarrassed and surprised by my sense of priorities. But you do not need to spend long in oncology waiting rooms to discover that the chief preoccupation of many, if not most, patients is the horror of going bald.

Some varieties of chemo dont make your hair fall out. Unfortunately, the kind I needed did. There are patients who manage to retain some hair by wearing a helmet of ice called a cold cap during every infusion but this is excruciatingly arduous, often doesnt work, and even when it does, will probably leave you with patchy wisps. I briefly considered the headscarf/turban alternative, but the futility of the artifice felt tragic. You might as well stick a sign on your head that says: LOOK! IVE GOT CANCER. A wig therefore seemed the only tenable solution but even the most ingeniously convincing one would still have to come off every night. I did not want to have to see myself bald and I wouldnt be the only one that had to. My sons were only five and four, and I knew they would hate it.

Decca Aitkenhead wearing her hair replacement system. Photograph: Shakira Kleiner

When an oncology nurse handed me a leaflet for Jennifer Effies Hair Solutions, offering an option I had never heard of, I thought it sounded too good to be true. (Other providers, I should say, are available.) If it really existed, how come no one else had mentioned it? The leaflet claimed I could have replacement hair glued to my head, which I would sleep in, wash and blow dry as normal, even wear in a pony tail, exactly as if it were my own. I read it doubtfully, in the waiting room of a private clinic. I was only there for a one-off consultation in search of a second opinion, and suspected this magical fake hair was probably a Harley Street racket to rip off the gullible rich.

But I couldnt help wondering what if it actually worked? Two days later I went to see Jennifer. A warm, smiley south Londoner, she seemed more like a therapist or nurse than a Mayfair hair stylist, and certainly nothing like a con artist. She had made it her lifes work to help women who had lost their hair, she said, by providing not wigs, they are not wigs. They are hair-replacement systems. For Jennifer it didnt sound like a business so much as a vocation, and the intent tenderness of her compassion quite disarmed me. She took three separate strands from my head, which would be sent to Russia, where human hair matching the different shades of blonde would be purchased. Then she wrapped Sellotape around my head to make a mould for a lace cap, on to which each individual strand would be hand stitched. The roots would then be coloured darker to make the hair look highlighted, like mine. As soon as my own hair began to fall out, I was to come in, and Jennifer would shave it off and glue on the hair replacement system using a special adhesive. My own hairdresser would cut and style it as normal, and no one would ever guess it wasnt mine.

The curious thing about losing ones hair is that even though you know it is going to fall out, the first clump to come away in your hand is a horrifying shock. I stared at it, in disbelief, and wept. To be so stunned made no sense at all, but is, I have subsequently learned, what almost everyone feels. I got on the train that afternoon, and went to see Jennifer to have my system applied.

To care so much about ones hair when you have cancer might seem like vanity, but really it is just a longing for normality. And the hair-replacement system made me normal. Jennifer was right no one could tell. After a month or so I told my children it wasnt my hair, and they were incredulous. A close friend I saw most days had no idea for months, until I happened to mention it. My oncologist even congratulated me for braving the cold cap, and marvelled at its success until I explained. The only difference between my hair and the system was that the fake hair, as my sons called it, looked considerably better.

It had to be removed and washed every three or four weeks, and occasionally repaired with replacement strands. These visits to Jennifer were if this is not too peculiar a word in such a context the highlight of my chemotherapy experience. The Macmillan Cancer Centre at University College Hospital in London, where I was treated, is an NHS flagship of oncology, and all the staff there work heroically and tirelessly. But they do so under impossibly overstretched conditions that make the kind of emotional support they long to give out of the question. I found it in Jennifers salon instead.

The system cost around 1,600, which will be prohibitively expensive for some. I wish everyone could get it: it bought me something I couldnt put a price on. I always made sure to face the salon wall, never the mirror, while Jennifer removed and worked on the system. I must therefore be one of the few chemotherapy patients to have lost all her hair and never once seen herself bald. That is a mercy for which I will be eternally grateful.

I discovered how it would feel to have others see me when I had the system removed before I underwent surgery. All week in hospital, I took care not to look in a mirror. But as soon as I stepped on to the street wearing a cancer bandana, strangers registered my baldness beneath it and stared with faintly repulsed pity, or quickly edged away. It was rush hour on the train home, and standing room only, but no one took the empty seat beside me. The relief to have the system re-applied after a week was indescribable.

Fasting to feel better

After nine months of cancer treatment, I still have not met one patient or medic who had heard of a hair-replacement system. Why my second piece of advice is not common knowledge either seems, if anything, even more surprising. I would never have come across it had a good friend not suffered from a chronic auto-immune condition, which the NHS treated with a drug for 20 years before deciding it could no longer afford it. An urgent search for alternative treatment strategies led my friend to an American-based Italian professor of gerontology called Dr Valter Longo, who specialises in the medical benefits of fasting. Astonished by his findings, she began to experiment with fasting for herself, and very soon felt better than she had for 20 years. Had I not witnessed this with my own eyes, I might not have paid attention when she told me to read Longos research into the benefits of fasting for chemotherapy patients.

The findings were certainly arresting. They fall into two categories. His early studies conducted on mice found that periods of severe fasting significantly increased the efficacy of chemotherapy. For example, among mice with a highly aggressive type of cancer, 20% of those in which the cancer had fully spread, and 40% with a more limited spread, were completely cured after fasting in conjunction with chemotherapy. In neither case did a single mouse treated with chemotherapy alone survive.

Further studies are ongoing, and human trials are under way. As I am completely unqualified to take a view, it would be absurd of me to wade into the scientific debate. But if I cant give a clinical recommendation, I can at least report my own experience regarding Longos second claim. His trials on humans found that fasting dramatically reduced the side effects of chemotherapy. Starvation conditions, I read, protected the bodys normal cells but not cancer cells from the toxicity. Again, further trials are under way in the US, but when I consulted oncologists at UCH, only one had heard about it. The evidence does look very interesting, she agreed. Until we can be sure it actually works, though, I dont want to tell patients to starve themselves on top of everything else theyre having to endure. But if you want to give it a go, go ahead.

The process Longo recommended sounded daunting, but fairly straightforward; you eat nothing for 72 hours prior to chemo, and for 24 hours afterwards. It doesnt have to be quite that brutal; small quantities of miso soup or steamed green vegetables are permissible. But I suspected that being tantalised by morsels of sustenance might make it harder, so opted for the nothing-but-water approach. I decided to try the first round of chemo without fasting, to find out how bad it would be, and then follow his advice for the second to see if it made any difference. If the whole business turned out to be utter quackery, at worst, all it meant was that I would have spent a few days feeling pointlessly hungry.

Had round one turned out not to be too bad, I probably wouldnt have tried fasting for the second. And for 24 hours following the first infusion, I wondered what all the fuss was about. If anything, I felt a bit of a fraud. There I was in the spare room of a friend, who had packed her family off for the weekend in order to look after me, and I was in no worse shape than she was. On day two, I suggested she might as well go to the gym, while I went for a walk.

Its a good job I followed a bus route. Twenty minutes later I hobbled back on a No 9, and it was a week before I emerged from her spare room to face the world again. What began as a recognisable sensation, like a very bad hangover, soon had me staring lifelessly at the ceiling, slack-jawed and vegetative, wondering how I would ever make it to the bathroom, which was less than six feet from the bed. This made the decision to try eating nothing for 96 hours the next time very easy.

People who fast regularly always say it gets easier after the first 24 hours. Id always assumed they were lying, but it turns out to be true. By the afternoon of day two I began to feel slightly light-headed, but was no longer hungry. The much-fabled starvation high kicked in on day three, and although by day four I was getting excited about the prospect of eating again, if Id had to go another day I would have felt surprisingly sanguine.

By then I was back in my friends spare room, braced for the toxic onslaught. I had come prepared with audio books this time, and went to bed that night assuming it would be days before I left the house again. I waited. And waited. And nothing happened. It was like lying down on the tracks for a train that never came. Eventually I got up, went out shopping, bought some trainers, and caught the train home.

What fasting could not do was spare me the cumulative devastation of chemo. Week by week, as the cycles wore on, I found myself sinking helplessly into a torpor of inertia. Each round stole more of my soul, until by the end and for months afterwards all I could do was watch Jeremy Kyle. But to have been spared the toxic intensity of the immediate aftermath of each round was miraculous, and going without food a tiny price to pay for such an astonishing dividend. I wasnt even tempted to eat. Friends assumed it must have been hellishly hard to live on water for four days, but nothing could have induced me to break each fast. To feel merely dead, as opposed to hideously ill and dead, felt like a lottery win.

Horsepower and tattoos

When chemotherapy ends, it takes at least a month before most patients even begin to feel better, and many more before you feel anything like your old self. There are, however, things you can do to hurry up the return of your old appearance.

Hair usually begins to grow back after about six weeks, but the process is painfully slow. If you want to accelerate it, my advice would be to ignore the ruinously expensive shampoos a Google search will recommend, and buy a brand called ManenTail. As the name suggests, it is actually designed for horses, but it is perfectly safe for human use, and the only product I have found that dramatically increases the pace and quality of regrowth.

For some reason, eyelashes and eyebrows grow back even more slowly. The eyebrow problem can be solved by taking pre-emptive action before they fall out, and having them tattooed. The process is surprisingly painless, and remarkably convincing; like the hair-replacement system, tattooed eyebrows were a happy improvement on my own. One important word of advice: do not wait until yours have fallen out before having them done. The tattooist wont know where your eyebrows normally lie, so you run the risk of ending up with two sets when yours grow back.

To speed up the return of eyelashes, the only product I would recommend is something called Revitalash, which you paint on to the rims of your eyelids once a day, and works. When your eyelashes are a few millimetres long, it is tempting to consider having semi-permanent extensions applied, but this is a bad idea. When they fall out they are in danger of taking your own with them, leaving you back to square one. A safer option are fibre eyelash extensions, made by a company called Cherry Blooms. The application process is just like mascara, if a trifle fiddlier, takes only two minutes, and transforms stumps into normal-looking lashes.

To any reader lucky enough to have never had cancer, none of this advice may sound terribly important. It was only when I got cancer myself that I realised how little I had understood of what friends whod had chemo had been through. When it isnt your own body that has to endure the agonies and indignities, all that really seems to matter is keeping it alive. When it is your own body, you discover how much more there is to care about.

Read more: www.theguardian.com

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