#we already passed like 2 broken down busses

[l1m3g0r3]

Bonnie doodles because it’s impossible to make actual drawings on the city bus

[mdzsgildedfate]

Gilded Fate - Chapter 2

One by one, poppy seeds bloomed across a field of snow. Just a few at first, then a whole field. A field of poppy flowers springing up out of the snow, dotting the pristine blanket red. A hand reached out and plucked one of the flowers, the petals immediately turning to liquid and spilling down the wrist. All at once, the rest of the poppies turned to blood and rushed to snuff out the white snow.

Both hands came into view. Blood spattered both of them. The one on the left was mashed and broken and bruised. The pain screamed and wailed and howled. And then everything went quiet. Black. The pain disappeared. The world fell away. Turning around and round, black in every direction, until finally there stood a figure. Tall and radiant, dressed in white robes, practically blinding against the black background.

Xinyi woke with a start. His eyes flew open and looked around the room wildly, searching for… searching for… he wasn’t sure. His breathing returned to normal and he slumped back against the bed. He glanced over at the clock and let out an annoyed huff seeing that it was minutes before his alarm would go off. Summer had gone by too fast.

Thankfully, Xinyi had been able to get all of his general education credits completed, so this year would be entirely focused on his anthropology classes. The classes his parents were requiring he take just to take over the family collection. He groaned. He couldn’t understand why he had to take college courses for a collection only his family seemed to know anything about. It wasn’t like Professor Lan’s moral philosophy classes were going to teach him how to decipher the cryptic scrolls in the Wang vault.

“One more thing before you guys go-” The Professor’s voice rang out over the sound of students collecting their things to leave. “Don’t forget to put your name on the sign-up sheet for the field trip- remember, this is a very rare opportunity, these priests do not invite outsiders to visit very often, so don’t miss out on your chance by putting it off til the last minute.”

Xinyi was halfway down the stairs of the lecture hall when Chen caught up to him.

“Hey! Xinyi!” Chen threw an arm over the other man, practically toppling them both over. “You’re going, right?”

“What, hiking through the countryside to spend a week in a Taoist temple?” Xinyi asked, laughing. “Hey- you ever think about how two of our anthro teachers are both Professor Lan? Do you think they’re related?”

“Oh come on, it’s a week we don’t have to spend in class.” Chen insisted, already dragging Xinyi over to the clipboard. “And it’s a week of co-ed camping.”

Xinyi rolled his eyes, but signed the paper anyways. “Yeah, I’m sure it’s gonna get so sexy with Professor Lan watching us like a hawk.”

Chen shrugged and dragged him off, talking on as though Xinyi hadn’t just poked a hole in his plans.

~X~

“I think I’m gonna throw up.”

Sizhui put his hand over Jingyi’s, patting it reassuringly. “We’re almost there.”

“I hate busses. I hate cars. I hate every form of transportation humanity has invented the past two hundred years.” Jingyi moaned, his face squashed against the window.

“I know, I’m sorry.” Sizhui gave Jingyi’s hand a squeeze. “At least we didn’t have to take a plane.”

Jingyi moaned harder, squeezing his eyes shut.

Towards the back of the bus, Xinyi stared out the window, listening to Chen chatter about the area they were in, the history of the rural villages, and so on. If he’d have known both Professor Lans were going on the field trip, he definitely would’ve stayed home. It was bad enough having one breathing down his neck, but the Moral Philosophy Lan always gave him these weird looks, as though he was expecting Xinyi to say something weird.

It was a relief for everyone on board when they finally reached the village at the edge of the mountain. The rest of the journey would be made on foot, beyond where the road ended and into the heart of the forest. Everyone poured out of the bus and the two professors led them into a drab, worn-down inn. Once inside their rooms, the professors dropped the oversized duffel bags they’d been carrying onto the floor in front of the students.

“Four at a time, come up and take out a uniform. We’ll be going down the mountain and staying at the temple in traditional robes.” Sizhui announced as Jingyi unzipped the duffel bags and started piecing the robes together.

Xinyi’s face twisted up. “Seriously? We have to wear this shit while we’re hiking?”

Chen snickered, holding one up to Xinyi. “At least it suits you, with your hair so long. The rest of us are gonna look stupid.”

Xinyi rolled his eyes and shoved the robe away. “Why are they white? We’re gonna look like we’re going to a funeral.”

Getting the robes sorted out to the twenty-odd students under the Lans’ supervision was a chaotic event. While Sizhui had significantly more patience and far better mediation skills, Jingyi was about ready to lose his mind at the utter lack of discipline. Once each of the students had been assigned their new clothes, Sizhui and Jingyi were able to change into their own before leading the convoy out of the inn.

“I can’t believe I’d ever miss Cloud Recesses this much.” Jingyi grumbled, rubbing his temples.

“It’s not all bad. Don’t you remember how excited we were when we first met disciples from other clans and saw how much more freedom they had?” Sizhui asked, stroking the hemwork of his sleeve. “This is what we must have looked like to HanGuang-Jun.”

“Hardly!” Jingyi scoffed. “We were never this bad!”

“Hey, how come you guys are wearing different robes?” One student spoke up suddenly, interrupting Jingyi’s complaints.

“Do we get headbands too?”

Jingyi made eye contact with the student for an uncomfortably long second before looking back down the path. “No.”

Sizhui laughed softly. “Our robes, and headbands included, are specific to the school Professor Lan and I studied at together.”

“Oh.” The student pouted for a moment. “What school?”

Sizhui only smiled back before facing forward again.

“Professor Lan just ignored me…”

The children following along behind Sizhui and Jingyi erupted into laughter and broke off into jokes and commentary about the journey as they began their descent down the mountain. Unlike their guides, looking positively regal and elegant in their robes, the students quickly devolved into a sweaty, trudging herd of zombies. The layers of cotton accumulated heat quickly, and the boys who were unused to wearing ‘skirts’ began the choir of complaints.

“I don’t get why we couldn’t change into these once we get to the temple.” Xinyi mumbled, using his sleeve to fan himself.

“It’s more authentic this way.” Chen responded, sounding completely unbothered.

“If you ever try to convince me to do something ‘fun’ with you ever again, I’m gonna kick your ass.”

“Come on, look-” Chen grabbed Xinyi’s shoulder and pointed to the peak of the mountains. “See how much taller they look now?”

Xinyi glowered at him.

“And see how the ground is starting to level out?” Chen smacked his back, “We’re almost there, I guarantee it.”

Xinyi rolled his eyes, but did feel a quiet relief at Chen’s observations. And just as he said, no more than thirty or forty minutes passed before the tall, wooden gate of the temple came into view. The students shed their exhaustion at once and broke out into cheers, jumping and rushing about in celebration of not having to walk anymore.

Jingyi brought them to a screeching halt and turned on them, mustering up his best impression of Lan Wangji and glared back at them.

“This is a Taoist temple. You are about to meet esteemed priests. Can you please try to show some reverence?” He said impatiently.

Sizhui gave a small nod. “Everyone. Please keep in mind what we told you in class. Our hosts have lived in seclusion for a very long time, please mind your volume and keep your manners while we’re here.”

The group quieted down to excited whispers as they passed through the gate into the temple court. Waiting inside was a ghostly pale man dressed in black robes, another man in cream coloured robes who looked somehow already annoyed at everyone’s presence, and a college-aged girl wearing matching cream robes. Sizhui and Jingyi stepped forward, bowing with hands out in front of them to the two men.

“Song Lan Daozhang, it’s an honour to meet you again after all these years.” Sizhui said, practically beaming at the older man.

“Yes, thank you so much for allowing us to visit your temple.” Jingyi hummed in agreement.

“Ah, and no greeting for your friend, whom you’ve not seen for nearly a decade?” Jin Ling huffed, tapping his foot impatiently.

Song Lan cracked a small smile, memories of the young squabbling disciples coming back to his mind. He cast his gaze away from the three as they caught up with each other and scanned over the group of students, unable to help but feel a small spark of excitement at the idea of overseeing young disciples for the first time over 8,000 years (even if they weren’t really disciples).

Once Jin Ling’s temperament had been quelled, the four cultivators took up an authoritative position at the bottom of the stares, turning to address the students. Everyone’s attention slowly fell on the men in front of them and quieted down, quicker now under the gaze Song Lan and Jin Ling.

“Welcome to the Leng Shuang WeiFeng temple.” Song Lan opened, holding his hands out and giving a small bow.

Sizhui gestured for the group to bow back and, clumsily, they followed.

“Over the next seven days, myself, your two professors, and our young master Jin will be instructing you in our etiquettes, principles, archery, sword-fighting, and other such relevant cultures.” Song Lan continued, a warm smile on his lips. “While you’re here, please treat our temple with respect, as this building is very old. Furthermore, my fellow Daozhang also resides in the eastern section of the temple. If he’s not participating in our activity, please do not disturb him.”

Sizhui gestured again for them to bow. They complied again, this time looking more uniform. Song Lan chuckled softly to himself, looking at the youthful faces with a nostalgic fondness. He cast his gaze back to Sizhui and Jingyi, giving a small nod of approval, before looking back to the group-

And froze.

Xinyi’s eyes met Song Lan’s and a strange chill ran down in his spine. With the sun beating down on the priest’s face, he looked deathly white, and the look he gave Xinyi… He couldn’t decipher it, but it made him feel a strange mix of contempt and guilt. He looked away a few times, trying to break the eye contact, but every time he looked back, Song Lan was still staring at him.

“Why is that guy staring at me like I owe him money.” Xinyi hissed, elbowing Chen in the ribs.

“Do you owe him money?” Chen asked, leaning over to get a better look at the man.

As soon as Chen had caught his gaze, Song Lan looked away, seeming to shake some thought him from his mind. He turned suddenly, pulling Jingyi and Sizhui up the stares into the outer pavilion. Jingyi waved his sleeve at Jin Ling as they were pulled away, leaving a wild, panicked look in Jin Ling’s eyes. After the disappeared, he looked back to the group of college students, feeling the pressure of their expectant gaze.

“Uh… Free time until your professors get back.” Jin Ling said, shrugging at MingYue. “Don’t set anything on fire.”

Xinyi followed Jin Ling’s eyes and felt his heart drop to his stomach as he finally got a clear look at the other figure in the court.

“Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Hm? What? What happened?” Chen looked around, trying to see what new ghostly figuring was harassing his friend for money.

“Her.” He pointed one finger out at MingYue.

“Oh yeah, what’s with that red dot on her and that guy’s foreheads?” Chen laughed. “It makes them look like dorks.”

“Not that.” Xinyi growled. “That’s my ex-girlfriend.”

Chen paused, mouth slightly agape. “Ahhh….. Rough luck buddy.”

~X~

Whisking the two younger cultivators into the privacy of the pavilion, Song Lan turned on Sizhui and Jingyi. His gaze has darkened and inky black veins had begun creeping up his neck. He squeezed his eyes shut and took in a deep breath. As it let out slowly, the veins also receded, disappearing back beneath the collar of his robe.

“Young Master Lan. Are you aware of the reincarnated soul in your midst?” Song Lan asked after a painfully long silence.

“Well, yes…” Sizhui said, biting his lower lip. “I’ve found a purpose in seeking them out, providing guidance if they’re on the verge of awakening. I’ve not been able to identify him, but he doesn’t seem in danger of recalling anything so far.”

Song Lan studied his face quietly, considering a number of thoughts before speaking. “Do you remember who else you met in Yi City?”

Sizhui exchanged a worried look with Jingyi.

“You don’t mean…” Jingyi started quietly, his voice trailing off.

“Xinyi is…” Sizhui furrowed his brow, recalling his brief encounter with the man. “Xinyi is Xue Yang?”

Song Lan nodded solemnly. “It would be impossible for me to send you all away, even more so to try to send away just him, but this puts me in an extremely difficult position. For myself, and for Xiao Xingchen.”

The two Lans hung their heads. “We understand. If there’s anything we can do to lessen the burden we’ve imposed on you, please tell us directly.”

Song Lan shook his head. “Don’t feel too responsible. It’s an unfortunate fate that keeps crossing our paths, I assume it has very little to do with either of you. Just try to help me keep him away from Xingchen.”

They nodded in agreement.

“This is a very precarious situation. Not just for you and Xiao Xingchen Daozhang, but for everyone present.” Sizhui spoke carefully. “Souls who recall their past lives too suddenly can become unstable, unhinged. I can only imagine how Xin- Xue Yang… could become dangerous if that were to happen.”

“At least he doesn’t have a sword.” Jingyi said, trying to bring some light to the situation. “That’s five immortal cultivators with swords against one unarmed Xue Yang with no spiritual powers.”

“That’s true. I’d very much like to avoid that outcome, if at all possible.” Song Lan took a couple steps over, peering out at the courtyard. “Keep an eye on him. Let me know if he shows any signs of recollection.”

Sizhui and Jingyi stepped out alongside Song Lan, their eyes falling on Xinyi, finding it hard to believe the bright, cheerful boy they’d spent all last year teaching ethics and culture and history to was the same unhinged murderer they’d met in Yi City. There was no rage behind his eyes or forked tongue behind his teeth. Xinyi had unnerved Sizhui in the past, but never to the point of fear Xue Yang had instilled in him.

Exchanging another worried look, the cultivators came out of their hiding spot and rejoined the rest of the group in the courtyard. Sizhui stepped up beside Jin Ling, leaning over and whispering their revelation into his ear. His eyes grew wide, looking back at Sizhui in disbelief. His grip on the hilt of his sword tightened, his knuckles turning white from the pressure.

Xinyi glanced over at them and they all averted their eyes, looking anywhere but at him. “What the fuck did Professor Lan just whisper to that guy?”

Chen and the two other students that’d broken off to sit with them both craned their necks to see what Xinyi was talking about.

“You guys saw that right?” Xinyi asked, looking at the three expectantly. “Chen, you saw the way that priest guy was looking at me! The professors just disappeared with him, came back, then Lan Sizhui whispered something into that guy’s ear and he looked at me like…”

“Like what?” QianHua looked back at Jin Ling. “Ooh, he’s looking at you again.”

“See! See what I mean!” Xinyi threw himself back, lying flat on the ground.

“Maybe it’s because you’re the one and only heir to the famous Wang Collection.”

Xinyi frowned and sat up. “Jealous?”

MingYue smiled. “Don’t be so mean, we haven’t seen each other in years. Didn’t you miss me?”

“Who’s fault is that?” Xinyi pulled himself to his feet, straightening up until he was a good six inches taller than the girl. “You’re the one that broke up with me by texting me that you’d already moved to the other side of the country. “

Her eyebrows turned up, pushing the vermillion mark out prominently. “I already told you I couldn’t help that, my parents-”

“You could have told me before you left.” Xinyi crossed his arms over his chest, glaring down at her. “Could’ve tried to spend time with me instead of my books.”

She frowned, letting her head hang slightly. “You’re right, of course… I thought I had more time…”

Xinyi shrugged. “It doesn’t matter anymore. Just stay away from me while we’re stuck here.”

~X~

The breath hitched in his throat, choking and gurgling through the blood spilling out of his mouth. Whole minutes passed, blinking through the dark, before Xinyi realized he was awake and there was no blood in his mouth. He took a deep breath, gulping in the air his mind had deprived him of with another dream about dying. The breath staggered out slowly as he looked at his hands, counting all ten fingers, clean and free of blood.

Xinyi wiped the sweat from his forehead and stood up, turning his phone flashlight on to lead the way out of the room and down the hall of the temple.

“This place creeps me the fuck out.” He whispered to himself, trying to remember the way out to the courtyard.

Just as he was about ready to turn around, movement caught his eye. He aimed the light down the hall, just in time to catch a flash of white disappear around the corner. The tips of his fingers turned numb instantly. After the momentary shock faded from his limbs, he urged himself forward down the hall.

“Ghosts aren’t real…. Ghosts aren’t real…. I’m a grownass man…. Just trying to get outside to take a piss…. I’m not afraid of the dark….” He muttered to himself under his breath, urging himself to move down the hall faster.

At the turn, he stretched his arm out and shined the light down the hall before peeking around the corner. At the sight of the empty hall, he let out a sigh of relief.

“Yeah, see? Nothing there.”

His shoulders relaxed and he continued down the hall, walking with a little more confidence. One more turn and one more hallway and he was finally outside, sucking in the cool night air. He hesitated for only a moment before crossing the courtyard and disappearing into a patch of trees. By the time he finished, he’d almost forgotten about whatever it was he’d seen moving in the hallway before. The dream, too, was fading from his mind as he turned around and started to walk back towards the temple.

The heartbeat in Xinyi’s chest had almost returned to normal when he noticed the figure standing in the doorway. This time, the numbness went all the way up to his knees and elbows, dropping him to the ground with a gasp.

“Do you frighten so easily now?” A soft, quiet voice came from the figure.

Xinyi shook slightly. “I-... wasn’t expecting anyone else to be out here.”

The figure descended slowly down the steps. The moonlight poured over him, revealing breathtaking features. Another soft gasp escaped his lips. The feeling returned to his limbs and he pushed himself back up to his feet. With the gap closing between them, Xinyi could tell that the man was a couple inches taller than him.

“It’s late. Shouldn’t you be in bed?” The man asked, looking him over meticulously.

“Couldn’t sleep.” He replied, awestruck by the man.

“I should have guessed.” The faintest hint of a smile flickered across his lips. “Do you know who I am?”

Xinyi blinked, confused by the question. “Uhm… You’re, uh…. Oh! You’re the other priest. I don’t think we were ever told your name though.”

His smile widened slightly, his face practically glowing in the moonlight. “Tell me yours, I’ll tell you mine.”

Xinyi’s heart skipped and fluttered in his chest. “...Wang Xinyi.”

“Wang...Xin...Yi…” He echoed the characters back slowly, contemplating each one. “How interesting.”

“Interesting?” He asked, unsure of how long he’d been holding his breath.

“Nothing.” He smiled sweetly. “My name is Xiao Xingchen.”

The smile broke out across Xinyi’s face against his will. “Xiao. Xing. Chen.”

Xingchen laughed, the sound of starlight and bells.

“Wang Xinyi. Why are you visiting my temple?”

Xinyi cocked his head slightly. “Class field trip.”

Xingchen took a step closer to him. “No. Why are you, specifically you, here? What desire in your heart urged you to come on this class field trip?”

He swallowed hard, his adam’s apple bobbing visibly. “I guess… I see temples in my family’s paintings all the time, I wanted to see one in person.”

That soft smile returned to the corners of Xingchen’s lips. “Paintings?”

Xinyi opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by someone calling his name, rather angrily, from the temple door. They both turned around to see Song Lan, looking unreasonably annoyed, standing at the top of the stairs. As the man descended towards them, Xinyi felt a strange urge to rush towards him, meet the approach head-on. But fear of the ghostly man held him in place.

“Wang Xinyi.” Song Lan repeated his name, closing the gap between them. “I believe I told each of you not to disturb my fellow Daozhang outside of group activities. It’s the middle of the night, where are you out here harassing him?”

His brow twitched angrily. “Harassing him? All we were doing was talking, and I-”

“Quiet. Return to your room.” Song Lan grabbed Xingchen’s hand, intertwining their fingers, and led him back inside without another word to Xinyi.

Xinyi scoffed indignantly, lost in disbelief at how flippantly Song Lan had just accused him of harassing Xiao Xingchen. Whatever that man had against him, it wasn’t going to dissipate over the next six days. All he could do tonight was head back to his room and try to go back to sleep, but he’d already decided- if Song Lan Daozhang didn’t want him doing something, he definitely wanted to do it, especially if that something was being around Xiao Xingchen.

[strangergrove]

COLLEGE!AU TIPS/INFO

Hey everyone! I love college!AUs and know some people may want to write one but do not feel confident doing so because they haven't been to college, or maybe just want some more information. Now not all of this will apply to all colleges/universities of course, but I wanted to give as much as I could. (For reference, I went to the University of Minnesota) This is meant for giving an idea of general college life and things that might be fun to add to a story, so I haven't added the more technical things, but I can if you guys want that.

ORIENTATION WEEK

Freshman arrive a week before everyone else to get settled in and learn the ropes (no classes yet, just events)

You get a student ID that's required to enter the dorms and higher security classrooms (ones with expensive equipment) You can also put money on it and use that at cafeterias and campus stores

They took all the freshman to Target after-hours (so we were the only customers) so we could buy groceries and anything we forgot to bring before school started

They also brought us to the Mall of America (because it was five minutes away) so we could go on all the rides and visit Sealife for free (the shops were closed down, though, so no shopping) I think it was supposed to be a chance to make friends before classes started. I don't know, but it was fun

DORM LIFE

I didn't have a roommate so I can't comment on what that was like (when applying for dorm living, we were asked if we preferred to have a roommate or not. I didn't want one and therefore lived in a single-occupancy room)

I did, however, have a sink mate (our single-occupancy rooms had this weird thing where two of them were joined by a tiny room that had nothing but a sink and mirror in it. The doors locked from the outside so the other person couldn't get into your room if you had it locked. Some people left their doors open so they basically had a roommate while getting to have separate rooms) I know this is probably unique to my dorm (because it's really weird) but it's also fun and could make for interesting scenes

At the end of every year you had to reapply to live in the dorms and you were given the option to stay in your room, change rooms but keep the same roommate (you and your roommate both had to apply for this option, of course) or change rooms and roommates

Rooms with only 1-2 people did not have their own bathrooms. There were shower stalls in the bathrooms that you could use. This lead to a lot of people walking around in robes or towels in the halls.

The cafeteria food was not included in the price of the dorm. You either had to buy a meal plan (X number of meals a month) or pay per meal at the door. If you had the meal plan, they scanned your student ID. You were allowed like 5 guest passes or something

There was a computer lab in the dorm with printers you could use, but rarely anyone went there

There was a laundry room in the basement. You had to scan your student ID to pay for the washer and dryer (ours was broken and let you do it for free) If you weren't down there to transfer or collect your laundry as soon as it was done, some people would take all of your clothes and just throw them on the table (even if there was already a pile of clothes there) because washer and dryer space was limited. So laundry at 2 in the morning was usually safest

CLASSES

I biked everywhere because our campus was huge and it was like a 15 minute walk minimum between my classes (sometimes a half hour if I had to walk to the stadium downtown) so biking was a life saver (biking in the snow was hilarious and difficult)

Driving anywhere near campus was a nightmare. Therefore, there were free shuttle busses to take you to different parts of the campus (most of the campus was in Minneapolis but part was in St. Paul.)

I had classes start as early as 7am and run as late as 9pm. My longest classes were 4 hours. Most common length was 2 hours

Only some teachers took attendance (usually in small classes) others passed around a clipboard to sign your name and prove you were there

For each hour in-class you expect 2-4 hours of homework that day

Most of my classes were Monday/Wednesday/Friday for lectures and Tuesday/Thursday for other classes. Once-a-week classes could be any day (and were usually the really long classes)

In high school you can take Advanced Placement classes and test into higher class levels (and earn credits toward a certain subject) This means if you leave well, you can take fewer prerequisite classes and fewer classes that have nothing to do with your major. This also means you may be able to graduate early (I graduated a semester early from this and taking way too many credits per semester)

In our university, any credits above 15 each semester were free (I took 18-19 each semester to take advantage of this) The required amount of credits to be determined full time was either 12 or 13, but they recommended 15 to be in track to graduate in 4 years (assuming you were going for a bachelor's like I was)

FREE TIME

There are tons of student groups ranging from support for foreign students to writing clubs to learning a certain language to capture the flag (which we played at midnight) These groups are amazing and a great way of meeting like-minded people

We had an event every year called Spring Jam where they had all kinds of vendors come, they threw parties and events, and even a concert

Our dorm hosted events for every holiday (Yule ball, haunted house, etc.)

We had a student union center with all sorts of resources for students, but also a theatre, cafeteria, game room (with bowling alley, great food, video games and pool tables you could rent by the hour, and trivia night every Thursday) and great hall for concerts and events

There was a bar called The Library, so any time anyone said they were "going to the library" they got suspicious looks

There were also a ton of on-campus jobs specifically for students, so you could submit your class schedule to them and they would schedule your shifts around it

If you want more information on anything, please don't hesitate to leave a comment/ask/dm! Also, if you have anything you'd like to add, please feel free.

I will update this if I think of anything else, so please check the notes for mentions of updates.

[endae]

|between the never and the night|

[AO3]

There were five times he was immersed in the darkness, and one time he cowered at the light. For @forduary Week 2: Trust/Paranoia

Additionally, a very late birthday gift for @fexiled who has been nothing but kind since the day we started talking. Happy birthday friend!!

~.~.~

When Ma turns out the lights to their room, he can’t decide between letting his imagination run wild or anchoring it down with a book.

So he does both.

There’s a new one in his lap each time, a new thought in his brain paired with it. Like moths to a flame, they flock to him, budding curiosities drawn to the embers inside his head. They’re almost prophetic, these moments, when it feels like the pieces are falling into place, when the world outside is quiet — that is, as quiet as it can be on this block of town.

There’s a comfort in these hours. He’s always felt that. It’s when the soft nightlight in the corner of the room, like clockwork, illuminated the warmest glow. It’s always right before bed that he feels the lightening in his veins, the need to channel it somewhere.

He sees colors in the shapes across the ceiling, an aurora borealis cast across the walls. Either an illusion of his eyes, or the extraterrestrial priming him for an extraction, he doesn’t care. It’s wonder in its purest form.

If this is how every night is supposed to feel, tomorrow has never felt so promising.

He breathes in, and he may as well be breathing for the first time.

When he stares out the window, the sense of glory it fills him with feels like a potential untapped. The epiphany comes, and it comes anything but quiet. He hears the restless seagulls squawking in the distance. City-bound busses rumble in the streets, and there’s a blaring car alarm somewhere deeper in town. It’s close to midnight that he’s sitting in his bunk, but in right this moment, feeling higher than all of Glass Shard Beach.

Like a crossroads of his life, he feels it.

He was born for things greater than this.

He always imagined it would come with fireworks and fanfare. But it’s here in the dark of his bedroom that the stars feel more aligned than they’ve ever been.

It’s at eight years old that the possibilities flood his mind. His fascination with anomalies had long been more than just a passing interest. This room is the very testament to that, the books and drawings, the notepads with pages upon pages of his writings. His eyes wander to his hands in his lap, as if they held the key to everything. As far as he’s convinced, they always have.

This whole time, the answer’s been holding out its own hand to him. His calling.

Unveil the mysteries of this world. Chase the answers into the night to proclaim them come morning.

It’s in the same heartbeat that he seriously considers it that his chest swells something different, like an affirmation long waiting to be acknowledged. Like it was poised for this very second, he latches on to it with a resolve to never let go.

It’s decidedly at eight years old that he chooses a life devoted to explaining the unexplained.

With a smile spreading across his face, Stanford flips to a fresh page and starts to read. The path ahead him lies all but waiting, the thirst for knowledge his only compass. If there were ever a point where he’d learn to weather through the night, now’s as good a time as any. His world was his to govern, and it starts here.

In the bunk below, he hears Stanley snoring up a storm, and starts to chuckle.

~.~.~

Something changes when he hits his college years — and that may be the understatement of the century.

Because five months ago, he was sitting in his old principal’s office with every opportunity in the world at his feet. Four and a half ago, he’d perfected his means to secure a future, and not even in a blink, it had all slipped through his fingers.

‘Not that it was my doing.’

It’s been forever and a day since he’s seen his brother.

The whirlwind transition from high school to university comes like an arrow through a storm of white-hot anger. When your path is forged in the shortcomings that can’t even be called your own, there are fewer kinds he cares to feel.

It still stings if he thinks about it for too long.

His own brother. His own twin.

It’s close to midnight, and there’s an untouched takeout bag growing cold at the corner of his desk. His eyes land on the stack of assignments beneath it. Tedious coursework to finish. Rudimentary papers to outline. This is his life now. Gone are the years of youthful abandon and dream schools, of longing for explanations to the unexplainable. Gone are the hopes he’d climb the rungs of this ladder easily.

‘Not that it was my choice.’

The bitterness creeps in a lot easier these days, more than he’s willing to admit.

He combats it the only way he knows how, a callback to brighter days — Ford grabs a book to rest in front of him, forgoing his bunk for the metal chair at his desk. He’s swapped science fiction for science fact, determined now more than ever to shatter the walls between them. However much harder he had to work for it, however longer, this was his to achieve. He wasn’t about to let anything else get in the way.

He could only dream of a silence like this from when he was younger.

But with how loud his thoughts are becoming, he’s starting to wonder if that had ever been a good thing.

~.~.~

There’s a different kind of darkness when you’re alone.

Fiddleford’s echo of rejection rings louder in his head than he wishes it had — but then again, with the walls and walls of machinery, it’s hard for anything to go forgotten. The history of this lab is carved in its sounds, where the metal took every step, every breath to amplify for anyone to eavesdrop on. The whole world can hear his silence, and it says more than he ever has.

Without another voice to add to the very thin chorus keeping the paranoia at bay, a fresh bout of it seizes the opening. Any chance it gets, it plays like a broken record in his brain, the mantra that’s taken him hostage since the night the illusion fell to pieces.

Trust no one. Trust no one. Trust no one.

Without another body to populate this tomb of a lab, the ghosts of what he’s done haunt him so much more easily. In the graveyard of his triumphs, he stands isolated, like the last guard of a post he should’ve abandoned when he had the chance. It’s too telling of what that says about him, where that leaves him in the end.

Because if your reflection is the only friend you have, he cowers at the thought of what his shadow might be hiding from him.

In an unhinged moment of impulse, he turns, eyes gouging at the man looking back at him. Looking, truly seeing what’s become of him. Pathetic, he thinks, reduced to matted hair and stubble of neglected weeks past. He runs his fingers through it, spacey. Pathetic, he knows, eyes tracing sign after sign, but…

Maybe he shouldn’t be afraid, after all.

He doesn’t recognize him.

(but something else inside of him does.)

From the deepest recess in his head, there comes a whisper. It’s in his own voice for a change. Like the soft nightlight in the corner of his childhood bedroom, it flickers to life with something warmer than this lab has ever been.

A thought. And he feels it.

The smallest inkling. The cry for help that’s been slow building within him, so muffled that he would barely let it pass as a murmur. Not if he could help it. But the bonds are breaking. He’s suppressed it for so long, it was only inevitable that it’d find a way out eventually.

He drove himself here, the outright denial of when to throw the life preserver.

But the signs are all but telling now, staring down the shell of the man in his reflection. Hollow eyes. Sunken cheeks. When a loose stomach wasn’t enough. When angry tears weren’t enough. When meltdowns and outbursts amounted to nothing, always questioning, always pushing the limit of ‘when is it bad enough.’

If he were any less sane, he could laugh. So when do you throw it?

When the shadows grow behind your back, beneath your eyes, around your heart.

Ford’s hand curls tight into a fist against the metal, mind already made up. He needs to move fast.

Because it’s growing in the only place he can’t stop it — inside him.

[Read the rest here on AO3!]

[trashcanband4]

Father Daughter Duo Ch.5

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3  Chapter 4 Chapter 6

Chapter Title: Moving in. Pairing: Eventual DarylxOc. Setting: The prison. Warnings: Rape, Non-customary situations, Suicide attempts. Word Count: 4,136. 

When I came to I was laying in the back seat of an old Chevy truck. Someone had dressed me in the clothes that I had brought to the river with me and my hands had been bandaged in fresh linen. "Dad," I looked in the direction the voice had come from to see the back of a young boy's head who was standing where the front passenger seat had been leaned forward. "She's awake." The boy turned around and looked at me with a blank face. "You know you really shouldn't walk around the woods by yourself. It's not exactly smart these days." Like I didn't already know that? Before I had a chance to say anything he ran off and the wavy haired man that I had seen in the woods replaced him. He didn't say anything to me as I sat up and pulled my knees into my chest. He just stared at me, like he was expecting me to say something first. We ended up just sitting there looking at each other. 

The stare down between us was broken when a severely pregnant woman walked up to him, said something quietly then handed him a bottle of water. She cautiously smiled at me before she walked off. "I'm Rick." I just stared at him and tried to control the urge to run because I knew now that if I did I wasn't going to get very far, my body wouldn't let me. "Your name?" he tried to hand me the bottle, but I just ignored it.

"Bay." I choked out my name. I noticed the other man from the woods standing at the front of the truck looking at a map that was spread out on it. There was also a bald man, and a grey haired man that reminded me of my grandfather.

"Well, Bay, were you alone out there?" I thought about telling him I was, because my father was dead to me now, but I didn't.

"No." He looked at me like he was expecting me to say something more. "I'm sure my father wants to know where I'm at." I looked around me realizing that my backpack, which contained my weapons, was no where to be seen. "So just give me my things and I'll be on my way." I couldn't help but think that they weren't going to let me go that easily.

"I'm afraid I can't do that." Of coarse it couldn't be that simple. "Where are you and your father staying and are there more people?" Did he really expect me to tell him, and if I did would my father get mad at me? "Look around you," I did and I saw three more people that I hadn't noticed before. Two girls, a brunet that looked to be about my age and another younger blond, were standing guard at one end of the line of cars while a Chinese looking man stood guard on the other. It had been a while since I had seen a real group, and these people looked almost normal compared to the string of horrible people my father and I had encountered. "If you're living in a safe place, we would appreciate it if you would let us join you." I once said that eyes were the first thing I noticed about people. Well, if I was reading this mans right at the moment, he was desperately in need of help.

I took another look around and my eyes stuck to the pregnant woman. She looked like she was going to pop at any moment. The more I thought about it the more I realized that the prison was big enough to share, and I couldn't let that woman give birth out on the dangerous streets. "It's just my father and me." He took several steps backwards and motioned for me to get out of the truck. So I braced myself on the back of the tilted seat and eased myself out. My knees were wobbly and he reached out to steady me, but I quickly dodged him and crossed my arms protectively over my chest. "Give me my things and I'll tell you the rest."

He huffed out a heavy breath and glanced at the other man from the woods. He looked me over before he gave Rick a single nod. "Fine, but no funny business." He walked around to the other side of the truck and came back with my backpack in his hands. He held it out to me and I quickly took it from him and checked it over for my stuff. It was all there so I tucked the gun in my waist band at my back and tossed the bag over my shoulder. "Okay, you have your stuff now where are you staying?" I really didn't want to tell him, and I probably would have just taken off if it hadn't been for the pregnant lady staring at me with one hand on her back and the other on her belly. My stomach twisted from fear and my heart went out to the pregnant woman. My sympathy for the woman pushed the fear aside.

"We made camp in the prison yard last night." They all made faces like they didn't believe me, but I kept on talking and told them how my father and I happened upon it. I told them how to get there. I was just going to walk back, but the man that I learned had bandaged my hands, Hershel, told me that I was too weak and would never make it on foot. I wasn't going to argue with an old man so he introduced me to his daughters, Maggie and Beth. I ended up riding with them and the Asian guy, Glenn, who I quickly figured out, was Maggie's boyfriend. It was nice knowing that there were other women in the group and that I wasn't going to be completely surrounded by men.

They chatted on the way to the prison, but I blocked them all out. If they were talking to me I didn't know it. I just stared out the window watching the trees go by eventually I got bored with that and stared at the tire of the motorcycle in front of us. Finally the prison came into sight and the sick feeling in my stomach only got worse.

When we had all gotten out of the cars I walked off and Rick followed. "I know you're probably expecting me to just let you people come waltzing in, but I need to talk to my father first." He squinted at me like he was expecting me to pull something, but I really had no intentions of doing anything like that. He didn't protest so I entered the yard to find my father still passed out even with the sun straight up in the sky. So I scooped up the Jack Daniels bottle from where it still laid in his limp hand. There was a decent sized rock next to his head and I let my eyes move between the stone and the bottle a few times before I threw it down hard. Whiskey and glass shards flew all over him and the loud sound caused him to wake up stringing together a line of curse words I didn't even know he knew. "ShitGodDamn. Bailey Simone Clark! What the fuck's the matter with ya!"

"You want to know what's the matter with me?! What's the matter with you?" he looked around him realizing that our prisoner was no where to be seen before he took in the look of pure outrage on my face. "When exactly were you going to tell me you started drinking? When walkers break down the fence and try to eat us?" he opened his mouth to talk but I interrupted him. "No, you were going to wait until there was a horrible disgusting man tied to an old rusty school bus. Oh wait that was last night." I said sarcastically and his brows knit together in confusion.

"Bailey I…" he tried to defend himself, but I held up my hand stopping him.

"Save it Sean." I could tell that it hurt him when I called him by his first name, but I didn't care, "I don't want to hear it and we have visitors." I pointed to where Rick stood with his group outside the fences.

"Who the hell are they?" he asked just as angrily as I thought he would.

"Survivors, like us. They found me down at the lake." It was the only explanation I felt like giving at that time.

"What the fuck were ya doin' at the lake by yerself?" the anger in his tone bordered on hysterical.

"What the fuck were you doing drinking yourself stupid last night?" I asked mocking his tone with my eyebrows raised. "Besides they're here now and they're going to stay here because I said they could." I could tell just by looking at him that he was wondering where this sudden change in me came from, but I wasn't going to tell him. I started to walk away, but he grabbed my t-shirt covered, bruised arm and spun me around before I hissed and jerked it out of his grip.

"Who the hell do ya think ya are young lady? Ya think ya can talk to me like that and get away with it?" his question angered me more than anything else had that day.

"I'm a woman that finally realized what kind of man her father really is. Now if you don't mind I'd like you to meet the men that saved my life today." This time he let me walk away and I could hear his faint foot steps behind me as I made my way through the maze of gates. "Sean this is Rick. Rick this is Sean, my father." I was going to leave them to talk everything out but my father's stupid voice stopped me.

"I'm not done talking to you young lady." I gritted my teeth and turned around ready to tell him to stop talking to me like I was a child but he cut me off. "Where the hell is Merle? Did you let him go or what?" that made me snap and I shoved him hard making him stumble from the unexpected force.

"Let Merle go? Let Merle go! I didn't fucking let him go he-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. How about you two save the yelling for when we're on the other side of the fence huh?" Rick got between us cutting off my ranting and pointed to a few walkers that were emerging from the nearby tree line. After that our arguing stopped as we all walked along the gravel path that lead to the prison yard. I could hear the others talking from behind me, but the only conversation I paid any attention to was the one that was taking place between my father and the man with the crossbow on his back.

"Who's this Merle guy y'all were yellin' about?" The curiosity in his rough voice struck me as odd. He didn't look like the nosey type.

"Just some ass hole that found us yesterday. Did have 'em tied up to that buss over there, but when she woke me up earlier he was gone. I still don't know what happened." My dad explained, but the guy asked another question as if he was excited about something.

"Yeah, whatever," The curiosity that was once there was replaced with an awkward urgency, "Was he missing his right hand?" it was this question that stopped me in my tracks causing my father to walk into me. I shoved my father off of me and turned around to stare at the crossbow guy.

"You…you know Merle?" I stammered out and he suddenly looked like a little boy on Christmas, but for me it was Halloween and a real live chucky doll was trying to stab me.

"Ya've seen my brother? He was here?" His…his brother? I didn't bother asking, the resemblance was enough to confirm what he had just called the man of my nightmares. Before I knew what I was doing I took off running and ended up hiding under a desk in the nearest guard tower. I hoped that no one would follow me but soon my father, Rick and Crossbow Guy's voices filled the tower. My father crouched down to look at me where I sat with my knees pulled to my chest under the desk.

"What the hell's yer problem? Ya've been actin' weird all day." He wanted to know what was wrong with me? If it wasn't for the fact that I couldn't stop my rapid breathing I would have told him off. My heart was pounding so hard that I could feel it in my head and I just wanted everyone to go away. My hand shook as I tried to wipe off the cold sweat that rolled down my forehead. 'Please just go away' I thought to myself as I listened to Rick tell my father to leave the tower. "And leave her here with just the two of ya? I don't think so." My stomach twisted and I was positive I was going to throw up on my father.

"She's having a panic attack and you're not helping. Leave or I'll make you leave." I heard my fathers familiar footsteps fade as he left the tower. I opened my eyes to see that Rick had kneeled down in front of me and Crossbow Guy was standing behind him. Rick put his hand on my shoulder but I jerked it away never taking my eyes off of the man behind him. "Look at me" I didn't. "Look at me Bay." Only when I felt like I was about to pass out again did I look at Rick's worried eyes. "You have to calm down okay?" his voice was calming, but it didn't put a dent in how I was feeling and my eyes darted back to the brother of the man that destroyed me. I couldn't calm down with him in here. I managed to get out one word that was directed at Crossbow Guy, leave. Rick looked over his shoulder and jerked his head to the door. The man shook his head no and said something about having to find his brother. "Daryl, I'll find out what I can, but I can't do it with you in here." I watched his feet as he walked to the door and slammed it behind him. Now that he was gone I focused my attention on Rick. "Breath with me and try to relax." he started taking slow deep breaths and I forced myself to follow along. Eventually I stopped shaking and got my breathing under control. But I was still sweating and I felt like I was going to puke. "How are you feeling?" he backed off, sat down on the floor and leaned his back against the metal wall.

Now that I looked at him he looked as exhausted as I felt. "Like shit." My voice came out sounding weaker than I had planned and I leaned up from where I had slumped back against the desk and rested my face in my hands.

"Wanna tell me what that was all about?" his voice wasn't demanding or controlling like it had been when he wanted to know where I was staying. It was soft and caring, but no matter how nice he sounded the truth was I didn't know him and I didn't know if I could trust him. "I know you don't know me, but you can talk to me if you need to. You probably won't believe me, but I'm a cop. Or I used to be anyway before all this flesh eating dead people stuff happened." Now that I looked at him and the way he acted before, I could tell. He was telling the truth, because all cops have this cloud of authority that surrounds them and it was all over him. "So you can trust me to keep my mouth shut." I didn't know how he know that there was something bad that I was holding in, but he did and it all came rushing out of me like a horrible title wave.

I told him everything that happened from the moment Merle push his way into my life up to why I was sitting here talking to him. "Just don't tell my father what he did please. I don't want him to know."

He looked like he was thinking about saying that he wasn't going to keep my promise, but he finally nodded his head. "Okay, I promise that I won't tell your father." You would think that letting it all out would make me feel better, but you would be wrong. For some reason it made me feel worse. It was only Rick's promise that made me feel even the slightest hint of relief. "But you should know that no one here is going to mess with you." I somehow didn't believe that. The only women in the group were either too young or taken. One of the men were bound to hit on me and I had a feeling it would be the brother of the man I now hated with every bone in my body. "Daryl needs to know what kind of man his brother is. One of us needs to tell him."

"No! You can't tell anyone." I hated the way Rick looked at me now that he knew and I knew that once my secret got out that everyone would be looking at me the exact same way. They would either pity me because they believed me and feel sorry for me because they would see me as a pathetic little girl who lied for the attention. Either way I didn't want my dirty laundry hung out for everyone to see.

"Okay fine, but both Daryl and your father need to be the first to know when your ready to tell them." He stood up and walked over to the door before he stopped and turned back to me. "And if you ever need to talk again, I'm here." He walked out leaving me by myself. I didn't want to go out there and face all of those people, or my father, but I knew that I would have to sooner or later. So I dried my face, tugged at my sleeve until it covered most of the bruise, then walked out of the door and down the stairs. Only to be suffocated by my father when I opened the door.

"Are you okay? What did he say to you? Did he try to mess with you?" I tuned him out at that point and pushed him back from me.

"I'm fine Sean, he didn't say anything important to me and he didn't mess with me." I crossed my arms over my chest and started walking across the yard to where food was cooking over the fire from the night before that someone had started back up.

"And why do you keep calling me by my fist first name?" my father caught up to me, but I didn't stop walking. "Answer me young lady." I stopped walking and got in his face.

"Stop calling me that and I'm calling you Sean because that’s your name. If I call you Dad it might make you think I respect you when I don't. You lost what respect I had for you last night, when you left me alone with that son of a bitch!" He grabbed my bruised arm again when I tried to walk off and I hissed from the pain and jerked it away from him. Judging by the look on his face the thought the hiss was one of anger. "Don't touch me!"

I ended up spending the rest of the day walking the parts of the outer layer of the fence killing what walkers had gathered there. It was Maggie that came to tell me that supper was ready. I followed her back the fire. There were only two spaces available in the circle, one between my father and T-Dog and another, wider, one between Rick and Daryl. I chose the latter and sat closer to Rick, because I felt like he was the only person here I could trust.

The over all mood around the fire was cheerful and it affected everyone but me. Everyone gorged themselves on the meal that my father and Daryl had killed, but I just picked at the stringy meat on my plate. When most everyone was finished eating and I had pushed my plate away, Maggie and Beth started singing. It was a slow sweet song that I actually enjoyed because it had been so long since I had heard someone sing other than myself. "Oh all the comrades that ere I had are sorry for my going away, and all the sweethearts that ere I've had would wish me one more day to stay. But since it falls unto my lot that I should rise and you should not. I'll gently rise and I'll softy call good night and joy be with you all. Good night and joy be with you all." Every one started clapping including me. My dad looked at me over the fire and I cast my gaze down, wishing I could just fade away.

"Why don't cha sing Bailey?" I rolled my eyes wondering why he was acting like I never even yelled at him. "Oh don't pretend like ya can't. I heard ya when ya thought I wasn't listenin'." I didn't know he had heard me, much less that he thought I could actually sing. I had never done it in front of anyone before other than my third grade music class.

"I'm sure they could care less." I tried to deflect the attention off of me, but it didn't work.

"I'd like to hear, and I'm sure everyone's getting tired of hearing me sing." Beth spoke up and I felt like punching her. Several other people chimed in that they would like to hear, which only added to the pressure. If this would have been happening two days before I probably would have caved.

"No. I don't feel like singin' and I'm not that good anyways." I said and my dad spoke up again.

"What are ya talkin' about? Ya've got a wonderful voice." He sounded happy like the rest of the people and the others made sounds of agreement like they new what I sounded like.

"I said no Sean, now drop it!" everyone got really quiet after that and I clenched my fists digging my fingernails into parts of my hands that weren't covered in bandages. My middle fingernail dug into the hole in the center of my left hand making a sharp pain shoot all the way up to my elbow. I thought everyone would stare at me, but as I looked around the group they all seemed to have started having their own conversations. Well everyone but Daryl. He was looking at where my shirt sleeve had ridden up. I reached my hand up and covered it making him look up at me. The look on his face suggested that he knew what happened. I made myself smile at him, even though I'm sure it looked pained, before I stood up, grabbed my sleeping bag and headed to the nearest tower.

My father grabbed my hand when I walked by him, and I jerked it away from him. "Where ya goin'?" I told him that I was going to sleep in the guard tower. "Why don't'cha sleep here at the fire where it's warm? Ya will freeze to death up there."

I looked between him Rick and Daryl a few times. "I'll risk it." I said coldly before I started walking to the tower again. I locked the door behind me before I pressed my back against it and slid down. I cupped my head in my hands and let the tears I had been holding in for the past five hours fall until I ran out of them. I almost didn't have the will power to even pull myself up the stairs, but I somehow convinced myself that I couldn't sleep on the filthy dirt floor. Once I made it up the stairs I rolled out my sleeping bag, took my pillow out of the foot of it and slid in. After a while I was able to push everything out of my head and I fell into a nightmare filled sleep.

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[be-a-good1]

Coming Out Story

Here I am, 27 years old and I was the absolute last person to find out I was gay. This blog is mainly a mind dump for me and hopefully becomes a sounding board for others who may be going through this too.  So, here we go... 

These things are always hard to start off, so I’ll start with the memory of elementary school.  I remember clearly having the resilience of a child, falling and scraping my knees.  If we do it now it’s the WORST, but back then, the scrapes were just a part of growing up.  Everything was just okay when we were swinging on the swing sets, playing basketball, soccer, or tag. No one really had a label in elementary school (at least none that I can remember). Thinking back, some of my best friends were boys.  Mainly because I loved sports, not to mention literally every time a girl screamed because a basketball or soccer ball whizzed by their face, I just wanted to smack them. Things started to change when I got into 3rd or 4th grade.  Girls in my school started talking about kissing boys, and that interested me.  I wanted to try it out, so me and a few of my friends thought, “Why don’t we practice kissing on each other that way when the time comes to kiss a boy we will be prepared?” I remember one friend and I would kiss just to kiss when we were by ourselves.  To me, this was innocent fun. I felt like I was on top of the world, and I honestly really enjoyed making out with my friends.  

In 4th grade, I remember talking to a boy. We were kind of seeing each other at the time, mainly communicating through notes passed secretly during class time. One day, a note with “Do you like me, check yes or no” fell on to my desk. I got ballsy and sent a note back with, “will you kiss me and I'll let you know...” written on it. I remember feeling super nervous and excited about this transaction.  He said yes, and days were spent concocting a plan to meet on the field during recess. Teachers at the time were extremely watchful of guys and girls together on the playground, so we had to be extremely careful. I was so nervous, and had convinced myself that if kissing girls gave me a ton of butterflies in my stomach, that kissing boys was going to rock my world. The time finally came when we got our chance to kiss.  We had our friends poised as lookouts for teachers or other kids that would mess up our fragile plan. He leaned in, and my lips touched his. Everything that I had built up in my head just shattered.  I felt absolutely nothing.  Actually, I felt cheated.  It was nothing against him, he was a very sweet boy. It just did not even compare to the way it felt to kiss my friends.

During 5th grade, I remember talking to my mom about girls. I was very careful not to reveal my attraction to them (see as how I would be severely punished if she found out), but I would comment on how other girls were pretty. As soon as I said anything, my mother would tell me that it was okay to acknowledge the beauty of another woman but that was the line. She made it clear that OUR family will not have a homosexual in it, and I was told that I wasn’t allowed to live that lifestyle.  Being gay and bringing someone of color home were equal acts of transgression in my parent’s household. My mother and father raised me in a very Southern Baptistä household.  The Pastor of the church that we attended was my father's best friend throughout High School.  It's funny looking back at that friendship because I had always heard about my father’s wild past deeds. I would try to get out of going to this church because I felt like the teachings were ancient, and if God loved everyone, why is it not okay for me to like who I wanted to like? My parents would tell me that being gay was wrong, that it was a horrible sin. I was told that I would go to hell if I even kissed the same sex or had feelings for the same sex. I was also told that one of two things would happen if I told him I like girls. 1: They would beat me until I realized that it was wrong, or 2: My dad would go to prison because he would kill me. Obviously, that instilled a sense of fear in me that has lasted many years. I cut ties with all of my friends and denied sleepover invitations.  I tried to get away from it all. Being an only child put a lot of pressure on me to absolutely avoid anything that could make my parents disappointed in me.

6th grade began and all of my “best friends” from elementary school were now scattered around in different friend groups.  What we used to do is kept a careful secret because we were in middle school now, and everybody was fearfully avoiding getting labeled. While in 6th grade, I remember meeting this one girl.  We became best friends after hanging out all summer long. She had a pool, and would always invite a bunch of friends over to swim. After swimming in the pool, we would all end up stripping off our wet suits and shower the chlorine off together. One day, I leaned in and kissed her while we were hanging out. She was taken aback, but ended up kissing me back. The next week, she told me her parents were moving to Florida, and of course she was going with them.  Her parents told her to exchange emails with me to keep in touch, but we never did. I felt like that was a sign for me, that God was punishing me. I couldn’t talk about this with my parents, however, because I feared how they would react. So instead of acting on this opportunity, I swept it under the rug and pretended like it never happened.

           In 7th grade, I had my first ‘real’ boyfriend.  My mom was a school bus driver and he was on her route. We lived deep in the country, and I would ride to and from school with her because no school busses went as far out as we lived. I remember holding hands in the back of the bus, meeting up behind the stage in the gym and making out during lunch.  It was fun to pass the time, but I honestly felt nothing by it. I knew this is what he wanted, and I just liked the company. We were broken up by the end of the eighth grade.

           High school was the worst, especially in a Podunk town where everyone seems to be aware of what you do even before you do. You cannot do anything without your parents getting a call from another adult so that, by the time you got home, a sufficient punishment was already laid out for you.

I think high school marked my worst era of depression.  My hatred for myself and where I lived caused me to think about ending my life several times throughout the course of high school. I started cutting, only scratches at first. Then, I realized the pain was something I could control, and it went on that way. I met my best friend because of this, but still felt like I had to hide my past from her because I didn’t want her to think I was hitting on her. I just wanted and needed a friend.  She was the exact opposite from me, preppy and popular, and exactly the type of girl I hated earlier in my life. However, if I hadn’t had her friendship, I don’t think I would have made it out of high school.

I think one of the hardest times I had was when I lost my grandfather (I call him Papa) on my mother’s side. I remember spending all of my time at his house on the weekends when I was growing up. I thought Papa and Nanny were the cutest.  He was the hometown mechanic and she was a volunteer at the local hospital.  She would always take me shopping, except unlike my parents, she would tell me to get whatever I felt comfortable in. Usually, this meant jeans and t-shirts instead of the frilly dresses that my mom and dad favored. Occasionally, my Nanny would buy me dresses for holidays to keep my parents happy. I definitely did not have a say when it came to what I wore for family photos.

One day, Papa took me out to buy an Easter dress to wear to the upcoming Easter service. Nanny was busy at the hospital that day, and my parents had to work. I found this awesome Adidas track suit in the department store that I fell in love with immediately. Papa bought it for me, along with some jeans and sneakers for me to wear. HE dropped me off at home later, no dress to show for the day of shopping we did. He was promptly chewed out by both of my parents. His response sticks with me to this day, “Let her wear what she wants to, if I had gotten her a dress she would have wore it for an hour and we’d never see it again.” This was very true, as over the years I came up with many creative ways to make my dress clothes magically disappear. This day will always be one of my favorite memories of him.

When I found out he had passed, I wanted to so very much go with him. He died outside while he was working on a car, from what seemed to be a heart attack. After it happened, Nanny couldn’t bring herself to stay at the house for a little while, so I was given the task of dropping by their house and grabbing whatever she needed.  I would get there and lay down where they found him.  I just wanted to know what happened. How did he feel before? Did he know he was dying? Was he in pain? Did he think about us?  Why did God do this, why did he take him away? How high up in the sky is heaven?  Is it even there? I would lay there, angry, thinking about how nothing else mattered. The one man who stood up for me is gone.  If he were here today, I am sure he would have accepted me and loved me unconditionally.  He may not have agreed with it, but I know he wouldn’t be punishing me for being myself.  

Fast forward to my freshman year of college. I was finally getting a grip on the semester when I got a call that my Nanny was being rushed to the hospital. Within two days we found out that she had colon cancer, and they told us she had two months to live.  Those two months ended up being two weeks, and that caused me to lose the last bit of me that I had a grip on.  I lost hope within myself and trusted no one. One day, while laying where they found my Pops, I promised him that I would take care of her. I felt like I failed him even though I knew wasn’t my fault.  Nanny had grown more and more on me. After Pops died, I made sure her car was washed, lawn was cut and helped around the house.  I felt like I was needed and appreciated. Now, nothing felt real to me anymore and the only thing that felt right was depression. I felt bad for my mother, who I vividly remember yelling “I’m an orphan” after Nanny passed.  I was mad at the nurses, the doctors, I blamed everyone including myself for our loss, and I felt so very alone.

The rest of college was semi okay for my mental health.  I moved out from my parent’s house and got an apartment near campus.  I started working at this little seafood restaurant near my apartment.  My father told me that he would pay for my apartment if I wanted to quit work and focus on school more.  I didn’t want to, I wanted to focus on being self-sufficient, but school became too much for me, so I accepted his offer. After a year of still being under his thumb, I began to feel more and more repressed around my parents. The fact that I depended on them made me feel worse.  

College really opened my eyes.  Even though I was in a very small technical college, the professors were very liberal and very open about it.  It was different to go from a high school where every teacher was a devout Republican and where every student knew you to a school full of people that did not get in your way or in your business.  I think it was a kind of a mutual understanding that we were all there to do our time and get out into the “real world”.  During college, I found an outlet in music, and I met a guy whom I ended up dating for over eight years. Looking back at it now, I laugh because I never really knew how gay I truly was.  Him and I started a band that traveled to SXSW and went on 3 successful month-long tours that traversed the United States.  I grew a lot with him and a lot more without him. I regret nothing when it comes to being in that relationship because if I didn’t go through that, I wouldn’t be where I am today: happy and so, so healthy.

I started waitressing at a local pizza joint to save up some money for tours and biIls. I’m not going to lie, was depressed.  I felt like I wasn’t me, like the skin I was in just wasn’t made out for me. I remember wanting to end it all.  Every relationship I was in with friends, family and myself, felt fake.  Everything felt like a movie that I was watching and not able to live out myself. Anxiety was bad because that was the time I felt the most in my skin and that alone is never healthy.  I was self-sufficient, nice new car, was touring the country and playing music.  But for some reason I was missing something, myself.  Something changed though, I met her.  

At the time, I was smoking cigarettes occasionally to just stop the stress.  For some reason that took away the pain for me. It was a stressful Friday night at work (Fridays are our busiest days) and I needed to vent to someone, anyone. So, I took a smoke break and Maddy (who also only smoked occasionally) joined me. While we were chatting outside and sharing a cigarette, I felt something.  She listened, she looked me in my eyes when I spoke and she had the best advice. I enjoyed talking with her. She gave me butterflies, and when she spoke it was the sweetest voice I’d ever heard.

At the time, the guy I was with had his own company that wasn’t self-sufficient and I was pretty much the cash cow. I remember bailing him out on a lot of our bills that should have been 50/50.  The band ended up breaking up, that was what hurt the most.  I couldn’t express myself and let go on stage anymore like I needed to. That was my release instead of self-harm. I didn’t want to believe I was being used but she saw it and brought it to light.  We eventually cut it off, he moved out.  I wish him nothing but good and I hope he finds happiness.

A few days later, she invited me to grab coffee at a small coffee shop.  I was sweaty-palms, knee-shaking nervous. Just sitting at the table with our coffee I could feel the tension between us. I invited her back to my place to hang out, and she accepted.  Back at my house we sat on the couch both on separate ends. I was dying to be close to her, every glance she flashed at me made my stomach tie in knots.  After a more nervous hug goodbye, I watched her leave and went upstairs and sat in my closet (the irony, right).  My closet was my safe space, the clothes inside made the room semi sound proof, in a way that made my head feel fuzzy and stopped my thoughts long enough for me to relax. One night I had a few drinks in me and decided to send her a Snapchat.  I told her how she made me feel, I told her she was gorgeous and I really, really liked her. After pressing send, I turned my phone off and back on so many times.  I talked myself into it being okay.  Finally, I saw where she was responding back to me.  I broke out in a cold sweat and I wanted to throw up.  The message popped back up saying she felt the same about me.  If ever there was a fire inside of me, it was now. I wanted nothing but to make her happy.  

The following days we sent risky texts back and forth, learning more about each other as best as we could.  I was so happy learning everything about her. She was the most beautiful creature and so unique, and the more I learned about her, the more I fell for her.

After Several more house dates of watching TV, our pinkies touched and we intertwined them. Instantly, I was in a cold sweat again, my stomach erupting into millions of butterflies.

The first time she kissed me I kicked her out. I was such a fool.  I had something so perfect in front of me and all I could think about was pleasing other people, instead of being happy.  In my heart, she was the one I wanted but in my head my parent’s words resonated in my head.  Then I thought about it, once I kicked her out she could have easily left and never spoken to me again.  But, for some reason she understood me and what was going on in my head and she broke me down slowly.  The next time she kissed me, I said “Gross”. I was mortified that I had said that. Of course, it didn’t phase her.  The more she came over the more comfortable we got with each other.  It went from casual downstairs pecks between scenes in movies to upstairs with the doors closed and music blasting.  I can 100% tell you that when she kissed me there was no doubt in my mind anymore. I finally felt like I was in my own skin.

Once I asked her to be my girlfriend she didn’t answer me.  She got quiet, and normally I would have just left because I don’t take rejection too well. But she was different, I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to prove to her I could be everything that she wanted.  I asked if she would like for me to leave, and she declined and then finally, FINALLY said she would be mine. The more we saw each other the more open we became.  We both were some pretty toxic people at the beginning, but we worked on bettering ourselves every day for each other. She has a past and that really got to me and occasionally still does but we are both two entirely new people because we work on supporting each other and loving each other every day.

Dating a woman was all new to me. Everything seemed so easy, I never had to explain why I felt the way I did.  She knew it was just a small obstacle I had to get over and she was there to help me if I fall.  When the time of the month came around, she would show up and sit with me as I lay in the tub with the shower going till I felt better.  If something was bothering me she would fight the demons with me till I was able to get my feet back on the ground.

I am happy.  For once I felt like I was in my own skin.  On top of it all, I couldn’t have a better group of friends to accept us so quickly.  They didn’t skip a beat and they love us unconditionally. My parents were a different story.

Throughout all of this I really wanted my parents on board with my new relationship.  It’s not going to come easy but I do have to say, it does get better. I really wanted to talk to my mother face to face but It would have been super hard to do that without my father being there. If I would have spoken to her over the phone, one of two things would have happened.  I would have either chickened out or she would have hung up on me and would not let me speak.   The best way I could have done it would be send her a message. Those were the longest 2 hours of my life.  The first hour of her receiving it, the small typing bubbles popping up ... then going away for the next hour. It needed to be done, though. It felt right, it felt good getting it off my chest.

“Mom, I’m gay.”  

Mom hasn’t been the same since.  Both of my parents were very supportive of me until I “betrayed” them with this lifestyle. As long as I was living “the way God intended”, I could do no wrong in their eyes. I haven’t spoken to my father for close to a year now.  Every time I try to speak to my mother I hear him in the background saying “brainwashed” or calling me a “faggot”. The don’t seem to care that I am happy and healthy. To top this all off, I am the only child.  This past year I was told that I wasn’t allowed to come to any holiday functions.  I missed Thanksgiving with my family, and when Christmas came around, I received a call from my mother, her crying and saying that she wanted to see me. I told her that I could see her and would love to.  She turned down my offer, saying she doesn’t want to see me “like this” and that once I change and “find God” she would welcome me back into her life.

Along with the phone calls from my mother saying I that I have “abandoned her” or that I am “killing her”, I’ve received a Bible, old photos, opened mail addressed to me and personal items from my childhood.  All of this was mailed to me because she does not want to meet up or be near me.  I’ve spent countless hours trying to reach out to her, but instead of an actual conversation, I get her crying over the phone that eventually turns to screams of her telling me how much I’ve betrayed her.  Out of all of this, one line hurt me particularly bad: “I don’t want you to be like this. I don’t wish you were dead, I just wish you never were born.  This isn’t you.  I want my daughter back” It cut me deep, and if I were the person I was earlier, I probably would have killed myself. I’m glad I didn’t come out to them in high school, or I know I would have been kicked out of my house or worse.

Coming out at 26 has been the best year of my life.  At times, I used to look in the mirror and not recognize who I was seeing. Sometimes I would repeat my name to myself because I would be so dissociated that I would think it was crazy that my name was Cassie.

I would say I have some of the best friends ever.  I went from a severely unhappy relationship to the happiest I think I could ever be.  When I came out to them, the reaction I received was either “Are you happy?” or “It’s about time!”  (thanks for not letting me know guys). The best part is, they love Maddy to death.  Friends can be your best family.  If I have learned anything in this journey it’s this, life can and will fuck you over.  Friends will come and go.  Family can sometimes be your biggest support system or your worst enemy.  But, if you can survive the battle of finding yourself and being truly happy with who you are, you will be unstoppable.  Your true friends will always be by your side and support you unconditionally.  Friends are Family and if you are going through this and you feel alone, I’ll be your friend.  I’ll be your family.  Things will get better, I promise.  

If ever you’ve found your soulmate, you know.  Everything stops in the world when you are with them.  Nothing else matter other than the time you are with them.  Everything that they do is just a work of art.  This girl knows me inside and out. She knows exactly how to make me happy in every single aspect and she does it daily.  As I sit here writing this blog, she’s in my bed taking small naps between her school work, and I realize how lucky I am.  She supports me to the fullest, wants to see me succeed, but also takes no shit from me.  She will tell me how it is in a heartbeat.  I hope I can provide for her and give her the queen lifestyle she deserves.  She is always front row when my band has a show.  She is the first person I call when something good or bad happens.  She makes me feel so good about myself.  More importantly she makes me feel like dreams are a reality.  She will not rest until I am happy.  I don’t know where I would be if she didn’t come into my life, but I am so happy she did.

How can a love like this, someone who builds you up, picks you up when you fall and makes you the happiest and healthiest person you’ve ever been, be hated by the people who raised you?  How can the people that said while you were in the womb “I don’t care what it is, as long as they are healthy” be so caught up with a line I will never stop hearing, “it’s Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve”? I will have to admit that growing up under my parent’s law, really made me who I am today. I do not by any means want to call them out on all their wrong doings.  It’s simply an old school generation thing with how they were brought up.  Is it acceptable? No, and it’s not an excuse.  I will have to say despite all that I have said about them in this blog, they use to be very supportive of me on the things that they deemed healthy for me.  They gave me everything I needed growing up, they worked hard to keep food in my belly and the lights on in the house.  For that I would like to thank them for working overtime for me to go on school trips, summer vacations, paying for school lunches, rent, car payments, etc. Thank you for providing for me when I was unable to provide for myself.  They loved me and supported me to the fullest when they could live vicariously through me. That being said, taking care of a child’s immediate needs is only half the job. Loving them and caring for them unconditionally is the second half, and in my opinion, the most important half.

Thank you all for taking the time to read this novel.  I hope it helps someone out there.  Just know that you are perfect the way that you are.  Love is love.  If you find someone and that rocks your world, makes you the happiest you ever thought you could be, and brings out the best in you, that love is between you and them. You are the person that lives your life, no one else can live it for you.

Go out and be happy.    

-Po-z

[backroadblues]

May 15 - Positano, Italy’

Our day - May 14th was largely an in-transit day. We were departing Rome after only 2 very action filled days. We put in almost 20 miles of walking over these 2 days and our feet are looking forward to a little break.

Before I get into the days post I thought I would share a little something with all of you who might be thinking about taking a European trip. If you are, I’m sure that like us you have been watching Rick Steve’s on your local PBS station and soaking in all of his travel guides and tips wherever it is you might be thinking of going. But did you know that you can go to Rick Steve’s website and view a lot of his videos. Here is one I want to pass on to you…

https://www.ricksteves.com/watch-read-listen/video/travel-talks/packing-light-right

It is a packing guide. Rick suggests that the key to a successful trip is to pack light. From one of my earlier posts you may already know that there are a couple of members in our traveling group who think Rick Steves is an idiot when it comes to packing. Just check out #Moby. Anyhow - just a suggestion.

At 8:00 am, our driver, Mr. Assenov showed up at out doorstep in his large Mercedes mini-bus to take all of us to Ciampino Airport, where we would retrieve our rental car. Trent and I had managed to maneuver the luggage for our group from our 6th floor apartment to the ground floor. it was exciting, because of the tiny elevator that was available. First i loaded “Moby” as Carolyn’s suitcase has been affectionately named, along with a couple of others. Then I step on the elevator and hear the ancient machine groan under the load. Reluctantly, I close the door behind me, as this is all that will fit in the elevator. I have a brief vision as the elevator groans and makes it descent to the ground floor; I wonder if my Holiday might end right here in Rome. Luckily, I reach the landing safely. Both I and the elevator, let out a sigh of relief. Trent and I then make 3 other trips and finally all of our luggage is on the ground floor. I then get to watch Mr. Assenov load all of our luggage into the large mini-bus. As he and I await the rest of our travel group, we chat, me in my broken Italian and he in his broken English, about our travel plans to take a driving tour around Italy and Germany. He looks back at all the luggage he has loaded into the bus and asks me, “you have large bus like this?” I ponder the narrow road we are about to meet on our way to Positano and say, “I hope it wont be quite as large as yours.” He looks back at the luggage and I can tell he is thinking to himself…“good luck”.

As an aside…If you will be traveling to Rome and beyond by car, I strongly suggest that you not have the car while in Rome as parking is difficult, but not as difficult as navigating your way out of the Byzantine maze of streets. So instead we chose to pick up our car at nearby Ciampino airport. You can pick up a car at the Rome train station, but that means you still have to deal with the streets and traffic of Rome. I suggest you take a taxi or arrange a driver to take you to Ciampino. It is a smaller regional airport and much more easily reached than Fiumicino International Airport. Additionally, it is conveniently located near the Autostrada to help get you on your trip with minimal stress.

Now if you’ve ever rented a car in Europe before, you know it can some times take you awhile to retrieve your car. The process sometimes involves waiting in long lines, incessant tapping of keys on computer by overworked and stressed agents and finally navigating your car out of the tiny holding lots. I’m glad to say that the staff at Ciampino was a relative model of efficiency. We were in and out in about 15 minutes.

Our plan today was to drive down to Positano, relax and do a little walking around this once sleepy little seaside fishing village. This would allow us and our feet time to recover a bit before we take on Pompeii, which we would save for the next day.

The drive to Positano first takes you on the A1 Autostrada heading toward Naples. A little past Naples you take a smaller road toward the famous Amalfi Coast. As you approach Positano, the road continues to narrow and becomes more winding. Fortunately, our mini-van was considerably smaller than Mr. Assenov’ bus and Trent and I were able to load Moby into the back of the bus. Although there was little room remaining for all of our other luggage, we did manage to load it all in. We did have to remove the spare tire from the mini-van, as we knew that Carolyn must have packed for every possible eventuality and surely another spare tire must reside inside of “Moby” should we need it. - I’m only kidding. We love Moby.

As we wind our way down the hill nearing the turn-off for Positano, we find ourselves dodging the gnat-like swarm of mopeds, scooters and motorcycles that seemingly risk life and limb darting in and out of oncoming traffic. Carolyn and Elisa are enduring the white knuckle ride down the hill missing cars, busses, bicycles and pedestrians by mere inches. Our mini-van is a nice and new Ford Galaxy and I am certain we will leave some of its paint behind somewhere as we wind down the tiny road. As we reach the turn-off to descend into Positano, I tell Carolyn, “now the road gets really narrow but fortunately it is only one way.” Carolyn groans a little, gulps and says “oh boy”. As we wind our way down Via Cristoforo Colombo through the colorfully painted homes that dot the hillside, we are dodging the hordes of pedestrians that are occupying the same streets as the cars, mini-vans and the incessant motorbikes. Our hotel - Alcion is located almost on the far side of the small town. As we approach the hotel the hordes of pedestrians is even thicker, making passage for our mini-van even more difficult.

Having been to Positano before, Elisa and I were a bit worried about where we would park our mini-van once we got there. Fortunately, Elisa called the hotel ahead and asked about it. When the phone call finally connected, Elisa breaks into her best Italian and begins asking the young female on the other end about the parking situation. After a few words the young lady interrupts Elisa and says, “pleeza speaka English”. Elisa, at the same time is relieved but also a little hurt realizing that her “best” Italian must be hurting the ears and head of the young girl. After a quick conversation we are told we can park in front of the Hotel and unload our bags and someone will be called to take our car to parking.

So today’s winner of the “International Eye-roll Award”, which from one of my earlier posts you know means “Stupid American Tourist” is me. You see as we approach the hotel, our vehicle is having to part the sea of tourist that fill the streets, totally oblivious to the cars that must use the street. The Hotel is not well marked and we happen upon it very quickly. I am now slightly past the hotel (on a one way street). I stop and the traffic behind me immediately begins to begins to honk their horns in unison. Scooters are zipping by me waving and gesturing madly - I’m pretty sure they weren’t saying hello. I pull painfully as close to the left hand side as possible and try to make room for the cars to pass buy. It is difficult and extremely narrow. I’m sure that this is where I will lose some of the paint from our shiny new Ford Galaxy Mini Van. Suddenly, the young female hotel attendant appears at my window side with a panicked look in her face because of all the traffic that I have now blocked. She tells me that I was supposed to park on the “sidewalk”, by sidewalk she means an 18" sliver or walkway on the right side of Via Cristoforo Colombo. I look in the rear view mirror and all i see are cars and a horde of pedestrians blocking the “sidewalk”. The young girl looks back and says, “we will stoppa traffic and a you back a-up”. Another man from one of the nearby shops says he will first get the cars immediately behind me to pass - but i need to fold in my right side mirror - that’s how close the cars are passing me by. He quickly offers to do it for me and I happily oblige. With the traffic stopped and the pedestrians chased off of the “sidewalk” he backs the cars to the right side, leaving sufficient room for the angry cars to get past me. Quickly, the day’s excitement in the tiny village of Positano returns to normal. As Trent and I retrieve all of out luggage, we are greeted by the “International Eye-roll” from all of the locals. Undeterred, we muscle our luggage into the lobby of the hotel.

The pained look on the young hotel attendant is now gone and she checks us in and takes us up to show us our rooms. She tells us that we are on the 3rd floor and points us up the stairs. Trent and I look back at our luggage and are hoping she will point us toward the elevator, but instead she says, “you takaa da smalla bags now and comma back for the others later.” Suddenly, Trent and I are missing the ancient shoe box elevator at our Rome apartment. Once we make our way up to the rooms all of our regrets about having to carry the bags are immediately erased. Carolyn, who has booked our room, is equally forgiven for packing “Moby”. Because when we enter the large suite that is equipped with spacious bathroom, kitchen, washing machine and king size bed, we enter an adjacent large sitting room and are greeted with a spectacular view of the entire town of Positano. Then we are further amazed as she takes us out to the huge private terrace that joins the room. The accommodations are absolutely spectacular. We can’t help but feel lucky that this will be our temporary home for the next 3 days.

Once we unpack, we head out to take a walk and get some lunch. We happen upon a little spot and have a light lunch. We head back into town and make our way partially down the hill, looking for a little shop where we can pick up a few things. I am suddenly incredibly tired, having only gotten a few hours sleep the night before. I’m sure my body is “crashing” from the release of adrenaline from the entire parking episode. So I decide I will head back to the room and take a “little nap”. The little nap turned into a 2-½ hour sleep-a-thon. I force myself to wake up knowing that I could sleep longer but I know that if I don’t I’ll never overcome the jet lag. Elisa and I join Carolyn and Trent on the huge outdoor terrace and we all enjoy the limoncello that Trent and Carolyn had purchased earlier. It was amazing and the only regret we had is that we only had a “small” bottle of the refreshing nectar.

By now, the sun is beginning to set behind the mountain, but the light show makes for some spectacular photography. We make our way down to a little cafe and have dinner. The food is good - not great but now that it is 9:00 Pm we are satisfied. By the time we finish dinner and make it back to our amazing rooms it is nearly 11:00 pm. Elisa and I go back to our rooms a little worried that our long naps will make sleep difficult, but our worries are erased as we both quickly nod off. And for once I’m not up at 2:30am writing this blog. I manage to sleep in until 5:30.

Next, we visit Pompeii - More Later! Ciao!

[talldarknsexy]

Trials of India

India was kinda crazy. Certain things happen, are always happening, which cannot be easily understood with a western mindset. But what I need to convey first is that it’s another world that operates on seemingly unspoken and foreign logic.

Traffic is a prime example. It’s almost maddening to watch. I did witness a few accidents there. But, for the billion plus people walking, all the Tuk-tuks, motorcycles, push carts, “cycles”, and cows moving independently, all within centimeters of one another, one typically remains unscathed.

The streets themselves are another thing of pure fascination to me. One typically orients based on specific landmarks, signs, shops/stalls. The markets there for whatever reason are in constant flux. “India time” is variable and dependent on unknown factors. Only trains can be expected to run somewhat on schedule. Space is also inherently amorphous. The people and stalls in markets are constantly moving depending on the day or hour. I’ve gotten so ridiculously lost getting back to a hostel for no other reason than the street appears completely different than it did when I left.

I spent a few days in Delhi walking around the markets, metro, and cowshit. For the first time on the trip I paid to store my bike. There just wasn’t space in the hostel in Delhi even if they wanted to. Anyways, it cost less than $10 for a month.

There was never a dull moment in Delhi. I’d walk by a naked man eating out of a bowl in the building next door. Alley kids would throw firecrackers through the door into the lobby. There was plenty of wildlife in Delhi too. There were plenty of cockroaches, pidgins, cows, surprisingly chipmunks, and hundreds of hawks overhead, presumably fed by an endless supply of rats. There were also men on the street trying to sell me anything from wristwatches to women.

I arrived to Udaipur in the early morning and I went down to the lake while the sun was coming up. In Hinduism, certain animals are sacred and in these early hours there were many people passing through the plaza and tossing food to various animals. There were flocks of pidgins, some lazy cows that wandered down, and the occasional rat that would pop out of a crack to grab a corn kernel and jump back. Sunrise was always my favorite time of day in Africa, and felt similarly here too. It was a vibrant, odd, but peaceful scene to witness in the orange light along with the scent of burning incense ironically stuck into some cow-pies nearby.

I traveled by train and bus to Goa and spent most of my time with a fella named Aaron and a gal from Mumbai, Poonam. We did a lot of eating out and some beach time and some party time. It was somewhere around this time I’d decided I was going to go home.

There was no dramatic shift, but a combination of geography, loneliness, and finances had me come to the conclusion that I was feeling ready to finish. Rajasthan had been a bit lonely and while I’d heard good things about Northeast India and Myanmar, I’d already spend plenty of time in Southeast Asia.

Loneliness is a slippery thing. People often ask whether I get lonely. There’s a notable distinction between being alone and being lonely. For example, in vast desert, I can be completely on my own with only the sand and sun and camping with stars at night. And with myself as company I can be completely content. Loneliness on the other hand is much more insidious. It can sneak up on you and suffocate slowly. If I’ve ever felt lonely it’s in cities and ironically, or accordingly, I felt it in India which has 1.4 Billion people. It’s a place where you’re never truly alone.

In Goa I got dinner with Aaron and a nearby cafe. I got some kinda fish curry. The waiter had limited English but I told him I would like to know (for curiosities’ sake) What was in the “traditional hamburger.” “It’s not cow, right?” I asked. He met me with a sharp head shake. “Is it meat?...” I gently inquired. He, this time, replied with a quintessential Indian head bob of unclarity. “Nevermind... I don’t wanna know.” I murmured.

I met with two other fellas I had met earlier in Udaipur that said for lunch a man had offered them the “secret menu” which they had ordered steaks from. Now, you can get everything under the sun in Goa, legal or illegal. But still, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was buffalo 🐃.

Aaron and I booked an overnight train from Goa back to Delhi. It was close to Diwali and we were surprised that sleeper class if any was still available online. (It wasn’t as we would soon figure out.) We had electronic tickets with seat number listed as WL 85 and 86. Not finding the WL section, we came to find out we were actually number 85 and 86 on the waitlist... The train conductor didn’t have the will to kick two foreigners off the train, but we had to spend the ride with the other freeloaders in between the cars.

Sleeper class is basic enough. But this was sitting upright against the side door of the end of the car. It was cold, cramped, noisy, dusty, and they needed to open the door plenty in the morning. Another conductor came by and we were forced to pay the ticket price along with a small “fee.” It was a maddening, mostly sleepless, 30 something hour affair. One that would get me sick.

I spent a week in Rishikesh after getting back. It was an amazing place. To summarize though: I explained to a couple later how it was considered a holy place meat and alcohol are not allowed to be sold there. “Josh... What were you doing there then??” They wanted to know “Yoga?...” I replied hesitantly to my own confusion and surprise.

It had been a bit hazy in Rishikesh, but Delhi was now enveloped in cloud. Not clouds though per se, but smog. It was a combination of burnt crop smoke, emissions, and fireworks from Diwali. I wanted to leave Delhi, but the smog made even being outside hazardous. One day it reached a point of being the most polluted recorded day in history. Equivalent I read to smoking more that 50 cigarettes in a day. India nowadays makes China look good. It’s easy for me to ridicule, but it is a reminder how privileged I am to be able to pass through, whereas this is reality for millions who have no recourse.

When I finally did escape, I did so with Chris, a German cyclist, headed to Asia. There were another two cyclist couples headed out of Delhi straight for Nepal, but I’d coaxed Chris into checking out the Taj Mahal and biking through northern India and floating a bit of the Ganges to Varanasi.

Leaving the city we hit quite a bit of traffic and were still pretty aggravated with the level of pollution. I told him that if he was leaning more towards Nepal we could flip a coin. Tails. And just like that, we switched directions for the next 2 weeks, but not without a slight detour to visit the Taj.

I’m order to do so, we had to stop in a city called Aligarh the next night. I sincerely hope that for the rest of my life I don’t ever, ever, have to step foot in a city as loud and shitty as Aligarh ever again. Entering the city was an onslaught. It was a “small” city by Indian standards with only a few million people, but withno main roads. At least not in the conventional sense... We got trapped in a network of alleyways that were just chock-full of people and motorcycles and raging with a +100db cacophony. We couldn’t stop, turn, or speed up. Just trapped, moving slower than waking pace. I started to notice as our week’s yoga retreat was wearing off, how a vein in Chris’ forehead would bulge at times like this.

We finally arrived to the center and got denied by some 6 different hotels. They claimed they weren’t allowed to accept foreigners. They all pointed us to the one that did which was about $35. After a good hour or two Chris had the good idea to book one on Booking.com and persuade them to accept us. It turned out to be a non-issue and they hurriedly over-accommodated what were probably the first white dudes to stay there.

We bussed to the Taj and back. An almost equally long and stressful experience. With large, popular tourist sites like the Taj, sometimes I feel like I’m just checking a box, and others I’m genuinely stunned. For me, the Taj was somewhere in between.

After all the selfies with Indians and the intensity of the day, Chris’s vein was bulging a bit. It was time for a beer. It’d been a few days, and after all, he’s German. Alcohol can be somewhat faux pas in India. So, after some searching we found Aligarh’s small unmarked shop. It was a dark, smelly enclosed box with chicken wiring separating the shopkeeper/bartender. They sold beer- two kinds. Standing behind us were probably about a dozen Indian men. They cannot drink on the street and certainly not in front of their wives. Here they were after work drinking as fast as possible before going home. Chug, burp, chug, gasp for air, burp... repeat. All the while, staring at two white dudes.

We stayed in our hotel room for those two nights. In India, whole families will share a single bed, so for us there was obviously just one. Chris was European and very confused as to why I wasn’t keen to share the bed with him. But, as I left him with the bed for himself, he didn’t protest. We had a good stay there, but when we left, the manager insisted we leave a 5 star review. He explained a few times in broken English that the checkout process IS a 5 star review. I probably would have if they’d asked casually, but instead played dumb and politely let it be know that we were leaving anyways. Kind of the opposite of the Hotel California... I suppose we’re still checked in there.

Leaving Aligarh was also a trying experience. I’d accidentally navigated us down a market street. It was a war zone of vehicles and stalls. As it eased up towards the end I shouted to Chris: “I only got hit twice, how about you??” “Me too!” He responded with a forced smile. His vein looked like it was throbbing.

We set off once more into the craziness that is India. That afternoon I watched a monkey jump it’s way up to the top of some buildings armed with a crowbar. We rode through a village where they were widening the road. They had simply bulldozed through the fronts of homes and businesses almost seemingly without announcement. There were mounds of rubble and debris. There were bedrooms and backs of shops exposed. “Was there a war here??” Chris asked.

In India the horns are unbelievably loud. I had armed myself with a 140db horn from a bike shop in Delhi. Aside from notifying a close by tuk-tuk or to alert a nonchalant cow that I was overtaking, it was pretty futile endeavor. 140db just blends into the background noise of vehicles, motorcycles, and truck horns.

One day I decided to try a humorous sign in order to dissuade all of the honking. It said “horn if you masturbate.” My thinking was that people would honk less to avoid admitting such a thing. In reality, very few in this region could read or understand English. The only person that commented all day was the affiliate from the hotel chain that morning as he was from an English speaking state. “Wow!” “That’s a very strong message!” He’d said thinking I was gallivanting around the globe promoting the cause of masturbation.

In the end, the only satisfying way to keep my hearing was to wear earplugs all day. Things were still loud, but at least I didn’t feel my ear drums piercing every time a truck or bus overtook.

Chris and I had other challenges to contend with also. Second to noise was definitely staring. I’m sure you’ve rumors of the attention one receives as a foreigner in India. Actually, a staring contest with an Indian isn’t too difficult. But when it’s a crowd that’s something else. I’d have to recruit Chris’s assistance quite often, and him mine. We’d have code words and on que we’d pivot into a power stance and start an intense staring war of attrition. Sometimes they’d laugh and cease. Usually not. Usually they just kept at it without so much as a blink.

We camped a total of three times in India. India was probably not the best region for solitary camping because of the billion plus people or so. But not impossible. The second night we’d scoped a spot, but wanted to wait on the road until it was dark enough to go camp in that spot unseen.

Some folks approached us that didn’t know any English. The road we were on had probably never been cycled by any westerners. Now add to that the fact that most people here had never even seen a white person in their lives. They were understandably confused as to why we were here on funny bicycles with funny bags, wearing funny plastic hats standing on the side of the road in the middle of fuck-all-nowhere as the sun goes down. We could only communicate a little bit. So I google translated “What year is it?” For them to see. I was shocked when they responded. I then translated John Connor’s dramatic speech in the Terminator movie about how he is from the future and how only those who join me will survive. They were even more confused. We rode off a few moments later and camped.

The third time we camped was less intentional. Chris had gotten a bit of the “Delhi belly” and hadn’t been feeling too hot. We reserved a hotel room online that afternoon so he could have a sanctuary to recoup. Unfortunately, when we arrived there was a wedding there. We hardly needed to go to the reception to know it was overbooked. They were no help, so Chris got on the phone with Booking.com while I scouted out the other 6 hotels in town. It was wedding season and they were all full.

Normally it wouldn’t be a huge issue, but there were no other cities nearby, Chris was sick, and it was now dark. I went back to the reception and explained how we were stuck, they had overbooked us, and I pleaded for their help finding in a place to stay. Now I understand cultural barriers, but this should be a no brainer to at least make an effort. But they wouldn’t budge to contact anyone. The manager told me in front of some 20 people that had gathered that it was my problem, not his. I lost my cool and spewed some obscenities on him and left not without an inappropriate hand gesture. It was the second time I’d unloaded on someone on the trip... The first had hit me with a motorcycle. It was time to get out of India I realized as we rode off to go camp.

I don’t much like finding spots to camp in the dark. You don’t have a great idea of what’s around you or how exposed you’ll be in the morning. After probably 2 hours searching in the dark we finally settled on a sugar cane field, one of the few not flooded. Chris staked out his sanctuary a ways away. He woke up many times that night to go pray.

In the morning, it didn’t take long before we were spotted. There were about half a dozen teens outside our tents. I was midway into changing into riding shorts. “Can you distract them??” I asked Chris. “I’m a bit naked at the moment...”

By the time we had fully packed up, half the village had gathered to watch the show. Maybe 30-50 people. One or two spoke English. Videos were taken, questions were answered. I signed my autograph into a school notebook. They were quite funny and excitable. Before we left,I decided to indulge them.... “Alright...” “One selfie!” I shouted. The crowd erupted and we took some group photos before finally breaking free and riding off.

That last day riding in India went fairly smoothly. Or maybe we’d already been baptized in fire. Or better yet, smoke. A man that day came up to compliment my bike and “strong lungs.” Hardly, I thought giving the equivalent hundreds of smog cigarettes I’d inhaled in the past few days.

We got a drink and snack by a stall before crossing the river border to Nepal. With a wrapper and empty bottle in hand, the shopkeep and patrons pointed to the field of rubbish off to the side. They couldn’t understand why I wasn’t willing to add to the years of accumulation and I wasn’t prepared to explain my own convictions. Again, the world of India and it’s culture are tough for me to understand, and given all the staring, I would say the inverse is probably true as well. Backpacking India had been a great experience, but cycling it was undoubtably trying. I could sense this with Chris as well... His vein had been pulsating all the way to the border. It was time to go.

[profoundgardenertree-blog]

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"Insurance question?

When setting up your insurance online does the company know how many years NCB you have? if not could you lie?

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If i change my California drivers license to an Arizona one, do i have to tell my insurance company? If i do will this affect my policy in any way? thanks!""

Would it cost any extra to put another car on insurance policy?

I was just added to my family's car insurance policy, and was just browsing used cars. If I were to give the person in the policy enough money to buy a car, would it cost them anything extra to put that car on their insurance? They have two vehicles on the insurance currently.""

Can i drive my car with an international licence and provisional insurance?

can i buy a car in the uk and insure it on my provisional licence and drive it with my international licence so i dont need to bring another driver to sit beside me during driving. the reason i'm asking the this Q is because insurance is much cheaper on the provisional licence.

Maternity health insurance question?

My son may be the father of a child, due next month. If paternity test proves him to be the dad, can her insurance go after his insurance to pay for the prenatal and delivery bills? This is in New York State""

What kind of car would be cheapest to insure for a teenage driver?

Im 17 yrs old, and about to move out.. My mother is not to happy with this so she is keeping my car. Now I have to buy my own car and pay the insurance as well, what kind of cars should I start looking at? Used of course, but what types of cars would be cheapest to insure?""

What are the best/cheapest insurance companies in the uk for motorbikes?

and yes i will only of just passed my Direct Access and likely to be riding a 600cc.....thanks

Will my car insurance go up?

I got my first driving ticket for going 75 in a 65 and didnt use my blinker and it was a 170 dollar ticket. Will that make my insurance go up? if so how much?

My car insurance is higher than everyone elses because im a Young Man?

Hi, Im 24 and recently started seaching for my own car insurance poilicy. I thought I would pay about the same rate as my mom, but I keep getting quotes that are like twice what she pays! I asked one agent why and he said :young men are more aggressive and likely to take more risk while driving I have never even had a parking ticket! Just because im young doesnt mean I will drive wild or speed. Is this discrimination? WOMEN AE WAY WORSE DRIVERS THAN MEN!""

Home insurance?

im looking for some insurance that will mean if either my fiancee or i die our house will be paid off in full (this way our kids have a home) im still quite young (38) any one know any good companys to get a quote with?

What insurance plan should I go with?

I'm a full-time college student and I work part-time. I have no insurance but need to get some soon. What health insurance do you think I should go with that is affordable?

Which auto insurance carrier is best?

I want to find a reliable company. I've looked into Geico and Allstate... just don't know how they handle claims and things. Any input?

How much does it cost to replace the windshield on a 2003 Chevy Tracker?

I think my windshield need to be replaced, a small crack is spreading, I think its 20 in now, is it repairable or do I have to replace it? how much does it cost to replace it. If I do it through my insurance, will this change my premium? Thank you (I'm broke, if any one know a cheap place in Austin,TX to replace it, I would really appreciate it)""

Alternatives to Auto Insurance?

I remember reading something a few years ago about rather then having regular auto insurance, you could have money in a bank account dedicated to be your insurance. Have any of you heard of this and if possible can you provide some sources?""

How much will motorcycle insurance cost approximately?

Im 17 and I have had my Minnesota drivers license for about a year. Im looking to buy a 250cc Kawasaki ninja or something similar. I will take the MSF safety coarse. I have good grades and have never crashed my car. Give me a rough estimate. Thanks!!

Cheap car insurance in london.name of company ? please?

Cheap car insurance in london.name of company ? please?

How much would small business insurance be?

This is for a marketing assignment. The business is a small gardening and cooking school for children. There are about 8 staff and activities should be pretty safe, since they're aimed at young people. The business is just starting out. What the instructions mention is: 1.property damage 2. public liability 3. vehicle 4. theft 5. personal disability 6. professional indemnity Kids hire their own bus to come here and staff ust use their own cars to go to and from work, so does the vehicle thing need to be included? The building is just a suburban rental property that costs us $400 rent each week. Also, this is just a minor part of the assignment, so a guess is fine. Thanks for any help!""

""In GA, if the moving violation is no longer on my DMV record, can insurance companies penalize me anyway?""

A bit over two years ago, I got a ticket for a turn I made that wasn't sharp enough. In GA, moving violations leave your record after 24 months, so it should be gone by now. Can my insurance company continue to penalize me for it, though? Do they have to lower my rates now that it's off my record? If I go to a new insurance company, will my current one pass along the information somehow even though the DMV doesn't have it on file?""

How much does car insurance cost for a 16 year old?

How much does car insurance cost for a 16 year old?

Can the government require us to buy insurance?

If the government requires us to buy insurance, cant they force us to buy anything they want? Couldnt they also forbid us to buy something they dont want us to buy? What happens if the insurance cost a million dollars and we don't want to buy it? We can no longer refuse to buy it. We are required to buy through the government. How does that empower the consumer?""

Cheapest Auto insurance?

Cheapest Auto insurance?

How much would car insurance be for a 1999 eclipse gs?

what would i be paying if i got a normal full coverage on this eclipse? and please no go to this link and get a free quote just give me an estimate, thanks""

Insurance question?

When setting up your insurance online does the company know how many years NCB you have? if not could you lie?

""Car insurance with 6 point,?""

cheapest car insurance with 6 points, please help. any car insurance which check record of last 3 or 4 year and NOT 5 years.""

Do auto insurance companies have to look at your driving record?

I have never had a vilolation. My husband has. He had one in 2006 for running a red light and one in 2008 for driving too fast for conditions. Well naturally this has given me higher payments. I was with Liberty Mutual and for liability only (my car isn't worth full coverage) I was paying $124 a month. My husbands pay was cut drastically at work so I was shopping around for cheaper insurance. I called Geico and they offered me liability for $55 a month. She came on and asked if I knew he had two tickets and at the time I didn't because I didn't know my husband in 2006. The lady told me my payments were going to be $144 with them and when I told her no she put me on hold. When she returned she offered me the $55. She read back to me everything I am getting which is a lot more than what I was getting from Liberty Mutual for a lot less price. Is it possible they just dissmissed the report to gain us as customers? I was cooking dinner at the time and my kids started playing loud so all I really heard was cha ching lol.

Do I need to buy car insurance before I buy the car?!?

I'm going to buy my first car. Do I have to show the dealership proof of insurance before they will let me go with the car? OR I can buy the car just fine and it's not their business whether I have insurance or not ? I doesn't make sense to me to buy insurance for a car I don't have yet. How does this work? thank you.

What is a good price for motorbike insurance for 125cc (im 18)?

how much is a good price for an 18 year old motorbike insurance for an 125cc. Also where is best to get it? cheers

Both me and my sister are new drivers. Would it be cheaper to get joint or separate car insurance policies?

We are planning to buy a car together and are looking to reduce insurance costs. Also, since i have already passed my driving test and she is yet to do so, would i get charged more for getting a single policy and then adding her onto it later when she finally passes. Or would this final sum amount to the same?""

""What is a good site for getting a quote for insurance on a moped, 50cc?""

I need to insure a 50cc moped, does anyone no anywhere I can get some good quotes""

""What to do, can't afford Automobile insurance 17 year old male.?

I'm 17 been driving since i was 15 i have quite a few tickets but no moving violations never once. only expired tags and stuff like that. i had insurance all when i was 16 in my name $130 a month. well i lost my job and all i moved out of my moms and on my own now and i got another job but that barely covers rent and food money. i went everywhere last few days and can't find insurance cheap. everyone tells me its $250 down and 200 a month. the cheapest i found it was $200 down and $160 a month im in Houston Tx and its a 94 mustang Gt im trying to insure. Seriously what do they expect me to do? im a 17 year old kid and they expect me to pay out the *** for insurance? how do they expect me to do that? what should i do? i got a 25 mile drive to work everyday what would u guys recommend me to do? all seriousness though i dont wanna get car impounded.

Car Insurance for a friend?

I have a friend (single mom of 2) and she needs to get cheap car insurance on her ford explore. She let it lapse for 6 months and now her loan company wants to repo her car, even though she has made every car payment. (she leases her car)...(kinda like rent to own) She got a quote from my agent, but it was going to be way too much for her. I am guessing since she still owes on the car she has to have full coverage. And can only afford less than $100.00 a month on it. She is a renter, she is going to school, and has bad credit. Are there any companies out there that she can get a good deal or at least get coverage for 6 months and re-apply with a better company?? The only one I have found out there was the general.com. And they seem to be ok...but I don't know what other options she has. Thanks for reading this!! 10 points to the best answer!!""

Car Insurance for a 2004 Mustang?

Im about to be 15 and im starting drivers ed next week and I was looking at cars and I really want a 2004 mustang. I live in a small town, im a girl, and my parents have Allstate. About how much would it cost me?""

My car was totaled by my insurance?

I bought a 1999 Honda for $4,500 in March of 2010 from a private party, about nine months ago. The owner never disclosed the fact that the car had been totaled in December on 2009. According to Washington State unless the total meets certain criteria it doesnt have to be listed on the title. On January 17th 2011, I was involved in a car accident. The insurance totaled my car. Somehow the insurance discovered that it had been perversely totaled, which I was not aware of. I had full coverage on the car. They now are saying that I will get receive what the car is worth with a savaged title. My question is, do I have to except this or can I fight for the value of a clean titled vehicle? Should they have run a check on the vin when I insured it with them and discovered the that the vehicle had been totaled before? Or is everything my fault?""

Are there life insurance policies for seniour citizens?

Are there life insurance policies for seniour citizens?

How much would car insurance cost? ?

I'm 18 and live I'm Maryland. I want to get a car but want an idea of how much car insurance will cost

Car Insurance Cancelled due to not sending documentation...?

I recently had a car insurance policy cancelled due to not sending off my documentation (driving licence & counterpart) in time. So, I started to apply for a new quote, and it asked if I'd ever had a policy cancelled, I ticked yes, and in comparison to begin with the quote doubled. This was because of the cancelled policy. I assume they do this because people have policies cancelled due to non payments, however, obviously mine wasn't. Is there any way I can get around this because it wasnt actually cancelled because I didn't pay...?? Please help, as an 18 year old girl car insurance is expensive enough! Thanks""

Does anyone know a Life Insurance Co. where we can get affordable insurance?

We are in need of Life Insurance but been having a problem getting excepted for my Husband. he had Life insurance from his work until last Jan. and they switched Companies and they dropped him . you see he has kidney disease and has had two tranplants plus he is a below knee amputee. the transplant was 12 years ago. and his checkups shows he is doing very well.. any Good Company names would be very helpful we have tried so many and gotten turned down or there premiums are so outragous we can't afford them.. thanks in advance..

Gieco insurance rate?

Ok I got a auto quote and I lied on the online form I said I have no tickets and car crashes.I do have some Im 18 years old And If I chose this company will they find the tickets? I did give my social number.

Car insurance Voluntary Excess?

hi just got a quote from a insurance broker for cars and i put down 100 Voluntary Excess but what does this mean?

Will full coverage car insurance cover this?

My friend was in an accident on a dirt road last night. He hit a rock sticking out of the ground that popped his tire, and the front right side of his car slide into a mountain. So the front fender, and right door is smashed pretty well. He has full coverage car insurance, and can not talk to them personally about what is covered, because they are closed until Monday. He left a voicemail with the insurance company when the accident happened. Money is tight so he is very worried about what, if not all, will be covered. Does anyone know whether this type of accident will be fully covered, or at least some of it? Thank you for your answers in advanced.""

Cheapest insurance company for newly drivers? (UK)?

Cheapest insurance company for 17's? Also how can I get my insurance to be as lowest as possible?

Am I covered by Insurance if I drive my girlfiends car?

I have insurance with progrssive on my cars and she has state farm on hers. Would I be covered ??? Thanks, Mud Bug""

How does car insurance work for a teenager?

I recently got my license but still do not drive due to the fact that my parents will not pay for insurance. They say it is too expensive but they also said the only way to make it affordable would be by getting me a car, which I seriously do not understand!! I don't want my own car I just want to be able to legally drive one so why would buying me a car and then insuring the car plus myself make it soo much cheaper than just already having me under their insurance and what not??? I just don't get it because once your insured you are able to drive any of the cars in the household so why buy another car just for me?? My parents aren't making sense and do not want to explain it to me. But we own luxury cars so could that be why they won't add me to the insurance? They are getting me a random, affordable used car which I don't mind but I would rather just be insured car or no car. Oh and they let me drive around all our luxury cars when I had my permit so idk why they are doing this to me.""

Teenage car insurance?

I'm a teen, and I'm thinking about getting a car. However, I've heard that insurance for teenagers can be expensive. Since insurance is usually tied to the car instead of the driver, am I able to get away with using my parents' insurance if the car is completely under my parents' names? Am I allowed to save a large amount of money this way? I only plan on meeting the minimum insurance required by law (in California).""

How do i buy car insurance and how do I find a insurance company that suits me (cheap)?

ok so I've seen a car I would like to buy, how do I get car insurance? should I ring a call or get insured online? Also a list of names of insurance companies would be helpful? thanks""

Ford mustang insurance for a 17 year old?

I wanna buy a 88-93 mustang 5.0 could I save insurance by putting it in my parents name? How does that work because if it's in my name it's gonna be pretty high.

I am selling my car and I have a suspended driver's license. What kind of insurance policy can I buy?

My driver's license will be under suspension until January 2014 and so I have decided to sell my car. What do I do about insurance? I dropped mine when I realized I would not be driving as a way to save money, but now that I want to sell the car I believe I need the insurance even just for someone to take a test drive. Are there short-term or reduced costs policies available in this situation? I would of course immediately not need the insurance once the car is sold, which could be very soon.""

How will the insurances work out with 95 car accidents at one scene?

Just wonder because of news yesterday at California highway. I don't know about law in that state but what if it's like this in new york where I live. Ya know whoever fault will pay by their own insurance for repairs and injury for victims and a vehciles. Same for most state. How would 95 different insurance handle it? It might will have several lawsuits. With 95 cars, hard to say who started the accident and whatever if it's one person cause 95 altogther or all 95 is fault on it own. Some may not even have insurance. There would be 95 different drivers so it will be 95 different verison or story of what happening.""

Insurance question?

When setting up your insurance online does the company know how many years NCB you have? if not could you lie?

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/when-you-get-car-insurance-quote-do-pay-amount-each-month-hausauer"

[etalksalot]

Film Thoughts: Spider-Man: Homecoming

5/10

   I would like to start this off by saying, I am a huge Spider-Man fan, he is absolutely, without a doubt one of my favorite superheroes in Marvel. So when I heard Spider-Man was going to be filming in Georgia I was really excited, applied a million times to be background or a stand-in on the film and finally got on it. The day before I was actually on the set for the first time I saw Captain America: Civil War and left the theater with quite a Marvel high. Things could be better? Could this universe be good again after the crap show that was Age of Ultron? Oh, how naive of me. 

   Now, I don’t want to make this post about my time on set but I will mention it quite a bit because it did affect my viewing of the film. I already knew quite a few spoilers going into the movie that I normally wouldn’t have known about due to being an extra on it and nearly being in some pretty pivotal scenes. So let me break down what I knew going into the theater for this one:

I knew that Peter was on a decathlon team and was struggling to stay apart of it

He took Liz to the dance then left homecoming 

Complete scene in the hall where Ned asked Peter to build the Lego Deathstar with him and they talk about his internship with Stark

The decathlon trip becomes quite a mess and people nearly die

What actors were playing what characters (other than the Liz twist)

Peter likes Liz

Captin America had a cameo in a gym class video

Pepper appears at the end for 5 seconds basically

A bank gets robbed

There was a fight with busses 

A Manhattan ferry gets broken in half and Iron Man saves the day

   All of this kinda seems like a lot of disjointed information to prejudge a movie on but, it’s something when you see it all and hope it comes together better than you’re actually seeing it get filmed. I knew I was going to get spoiled working on the movie as an extra but I really didn’t care at the time. As I worked on it however I started to worry the movie would be all too campy. I once actually heard the director ask for something to be done again, more comical this time. Ug.

   Spider-Man: Homecoming was met with a wave of approval and that I, at first, thought was the correct reaction. Sadly that high of seeing a superhero movie faded off within ten minutes of me leaving the theater. 

   I wanted it to be good. I did. But it just wasn’t.

   There’s a trend in 2017 ‘blockbusters’ that I’ve seen, and it really started with Spider-Man: Homecoming. The trend is: Let’s take classic movies we know people love and have grossed a lot, that all those tropes and cliches and pound our audience in the face with them over and over and over because WHY NOT???

   These are the tropes and cliches aka things that make this movie unoriginal and predictable as hell:

nerd likes popular chick he will never have a chance with

80′s & 70′s music ( just because Stranger Things is popular so all things 80′s MUST sell right???? RIGHT??? )

Hero thinks he can do everything because of his powers then realizes his power is himself or something we’ve ALREADY SEEN

Dance scenes

Detention ( because you have to have detention scenes in high school set movies )

Crappy coming of age dialogue aka “I can do this.” “I’m not just a kid.” “Why don’t adults let me do what I want.”

Cheese best friend who is just a punchline and has no serious character aka Goofy Sidekick

  There are a lot more but you get the point. There was not much originality to this film at all. I’m trying not to compare it to any of the other 5 Spider-man films but, it’s kinda hard not to. And the fact is? I’d rather go watch Amazing Spider-Man 1 & 2 or the good 2 Tobey Maguire movies ( we won’t talk about that 3rd one ). 

  All around I felt like this movie fitting into the MCU that Marvel has going on ( especially after watching Civil War and Doctor Strange ) just doesn’t fit the tone. They tried to give this movie some serious moments but it was just as serious as Troy Bolten’s moment in High School Musical 2. You know which one I’m talking about. Yeah. That one. I’m not totally hating on this, I know it’s a Spider-Man trope thingy, I’m just kinda tired of seeing it...and it made me think of High School Musical.

  In Spider-Man one of the biggest deals to Peter Parker is keeping the people around him safe, not only in the comics but the other movies as well. He keeps his identity a secret from everyone as long as he possibly can. So it really irritated me when he flippantly was talking about it in the back of a bus with the rest of his classmates all around at full freaking volume. Ned finding out by accident was excusable but how he reacted with it was just irritating. His character was just extra trouble for no real reason.

  If you didn’t like the bad dialogue just wait about 5 minutes and you’ll get an overstimulating, over-animated, all in focus action scene just because that’s what hero movies are all about right? The one scene, in particular, that was tough to watch, just because of a number of bright colors and everything is in focus was the fight on the plane with all the Avengers gear.

 Speaking of the Avengers, did you know that Spider-Man is in the same universe as them??? Because they act like you don’t. It’s in no way an easter egg, it’s overkill. They beat you over the head with the fact that the Avengers have been around. I’m honestly scared to see a count of how many freaking times the Avengers are mentioned in the movie. We get it. Move on. This was just a blatant overly happy directorial choice I strongly disagree with. Sony might have owned Spider-Man but now that it’s all in one universe doesn’t mean you have to tell us that every ten minutes of the movie.

  And I think it’s total BS to say that the little kid in Ironman 2 is Peter Parker. 

  Don’t get crazy. 

  There were some other good little ‘easter eggs’ that were cut short. Shocker being one of them. I would have loved for them to have left Logan Marshall-Green as Shocker for a later film instead of just killing him off and passing the mantel so fast. Shocker has not really been explored before in film, it would have actually been very original of them to do that. But no. I was wrong. 

   I did, however, enjoy the nod to Miles Morales. Donald Glover played Aaron Davis, who is Miles’ uncle in the comics. This clearly meant they were pulling more from the Ultimates comic series. It was a cool little tip of the hat to Donald himself, who everyone wanted to play Miles because the artist who first drew him even said that he used Donald as a sort of model for Miles. That being said, I still think I would have liked a whole movie with Miles over Peter just because of how Homecoming ended up as a whole.

   Though the movie itself was very predictable for me I will give it credit where it has earned it. The twist with Liz ( Laura Harrier ) being Adrian Toomes’ ( aka Vulture ) daughter actually got me. That was really good. I went in thinking that Liz was Liz Allen, which is what they hoped a lot of people would do, making for a really good twist that as a comic book fan I wasn’t even upset by.

   This leads me to the acting. The biggest hype about Civil War was that Tom Holland was going to be Spider-Man and how was he going to be received. I enjoyed Tom in Civil War as Peter Parker. I think that each actor who has played Peter has played him in a different way, each grabbing from a different comic series but still doing a great job. Everyone has their own opinions on each one and that being said, Tom, I thought did a very good job in Civil War, however, that movie had a different director, a very different tone overall than Homecoming. Tom himself is a very good actor but he’s young. I think he has a lot of potential to grow but that he didn’t really shine like he should have in this movie. That is partly the script’s fault and partly the director’s fault. You can really see in all the scenes with the high schooler’s Tom doesn’t push himself at all. He makes the same shocked/confused faces over and over, does the same groan/sigh and just kinda gets through the scene. 

    When he’s acting with Michael Keaton he’s very much in the scene and is truly behaving rather than reacting or reciting lines. Michael Keaton is a very seasoned actor, my guess is that he doesn’t require that much directing at all, hell he didn’t even do his research on the character and he nailed it. He’s just a great actor all around and Tom fed off of that. Being on set I will say that Jon Watts is a very active director, he would never yell from off set or anything like that. Jon was always close by and very involved. He’s a nice guy and I wish him the best in his future but I hope that’s not in MCU. Side note here, Zendeya was also the saving grace of this movie. 

   Does anything in this film actually apply to the rest of the MCU? No. Not at all. You can quite frankly skip this film and still be informed as to everything you need to know. Nothing really important actually ever happens in this film. 

   Rounding this review up as best I can, it really did get away from me quite a bit, not a bad movie to take little kids to but it’s really got very little substance. If you want to see something more powerful than a kinda remake of every 70′s - 80′s teen flick with a Spider-Man twist? Go watch Amazing Spider-Man or the 2001 Spider-Man films. If there’s something I didn’t cover and you want to know what I thought about it, just send me an ask.

[steampunkfan]

A Breakdown of the Most Persuasive April Fool’s Marketing Video of 2017

Like any other popular yearly event, April Fool’s Day is an excellent opportunity for marketers that are willing to be innovative in connecting with their target audience. However, given the sheer volume of campaigns launched to exploit the short window of opportunity, standing out from the crowd is quite the challenge.

While humour and fun are essential elements of any April Fool’s Day campaign, there is one question that marketers must ponder over before designing their campaign: how can we create a persuasive campaign that goes beyond “a bit of fun”?

The ultimate purpose of any campaign after all, is engagement. A campaign should aim to engage the potential customer and lead them to a powerful call-to-action that is hard to resist.

So what does a successful April Fool’s Day campaign look like?

We find the answers by investigating and breaking-down a recent campaign by Infiniti Telecommunications, an Australian phone systems & support company.

We all know what it is like to contact a telecommunications company and get poor communications from their call center?

Well, Infiniti Telecommunications lead by marketing icon Pete Williams, came up with a great solution for April Fool’s Day this year: skipping India and the Philippines, and outsourcing their customer support call center straight to artificial intelligence and chatbots.

In this stellar campaign, which has been reported as “The Most Influential April Fool’s Video of 2017”, we find the perfect balance of fun and persuasion, all carried out through the use of established psychological tools that have been studied by academics and marketers alike. 

Why Humour Persuades

As far as psychology is concerned, humans still react much the same way as our ancestors did back in hunter-gatherer times (or as some people believe, during the Flintstones era!). Evolutionary psychologists such as David Buss believe that humour may have evolved to signal good-will and social intelligence (Buss,[11]).

And why did signalling good-will matter to our tribal ancestors? Humans tend to view strangers as being “outside their tribe” and at first, with suspicion. This is especially the case where a real human interaction is missing, such as when watching a video. This is where humour plays a crucial role in “breaking the ice”, particularly when breaking barriers between you and your potential customer.

Humour has a strong bonding effect. It creates what cognitive psychologists call the liking bias. Humour gets people to like each other as it switches off any “fight or flight” tendencies. In marketing, humour allows for the listener to be more open-minded about the offering in question. Infiniti, like most marketers who jump on the April Fools band-wagon, has utilised this to its advantage, with a funny tongue-in-cheek video that ticks all the boxes of persuasive humour.

But how well does Infiniti fare in signalling social intelligence?

First of all, unlike other April Fool videos, the prank is not overtly obvious and is given away over the course of the video through facial cues, tonality, sarcastic quotation marks etc. In particular notice the delivery of the line at 1:20, “With technology, the cloud and artificial intelligence, there is no limit to the number of simultaneous complaints our customer service team can handle”. It’s mature, smart and tongue-in-cheek.

In many ways, the video is reminiscent of the UK TV show “The Office”, often commended for employing such subtleties in humour.

Contrast this subtle style of humour to the blatantly obvious April Fool’s campaign by Ubisoft. Who would, for even just a second, believe that a video game multinational was launching “the manly scent of wild rabbits”?!

Source: edge.alluremedia.com.au

Secondly, note the use of sarcasm. Sarcasm is usually employed in one of two respects: in humour and as a put-down. However, it is underappreciated as a powerful tool for persuasion. The undertone of sarcasm implies that the opposite of what is being is said is not only true but obvious.

For instance, we hear in the video, creative-director come actor Pete Williams say, “We (Infiniti) may be revolutionary, but we’re not crazy (to pass savings to the customer)”, mentioned with a tone of humorous sarcasm. The perception created as a result, is that Infiniti is in fact exactly the kind of company to pass savings to the customer because it is obviously the right thing to do.

Moreover, this line has a double-persuasion effect, reminding viewers that Infiniti is revolutionary in its approach to communication.

A lollapalooza effect!

Billionaire investor Charlie Munger coined the term “lollapalooza effect” to describe a cocktail of psychological biases all working in the same direction. We see quite the lollapalooza effect in Infiniti’s ad campaign in artfully incorporating a whopping total of over 13 psychological tools of persuasion.

1. Admission of Fault

One of the most perplexing of psychological phenomena is that admitting to a fault in adverts is found to be highly effective as a marketing tactic.

For instance, famous instances include Avis’ “we try harder” and Volkswagen’s “it’s ugly but it gets you there”. While this may seem counter-intuitive, it works!

As psychologist Noah Goldstein finds, admitting such a weakness creates a sense of trust and a feeling that the brand is honest (Goldstein, [5]). A viewer of an advert knows that an attempt is being made to lure them into buying into the offering.

Admissions of weaknesses allow viewers to lower their guard. It is doubly effective where it implies other positive attributes. For instance, an advert by Avis stated “We can’t afford not to be nice… we’re number 2”. What they are conveying however, is: “you should buy from us because we really value our customers”.

Source: slate.com

Where Infiniti Got it Right:

Going against the grain in the heap of companies using April Fools marketing, Infiniti makes a seemingly damning admission: “we know in the past our customer service hasn’t been fantastic”. However, it is immediately followed by “we’re working very to hard to change that”. It is as though the tactic was borrowed straight out of the Avis handbook!

2. Presuppositions

Presuppositions are statements in which some unstated element must be assumed (pre-supposed) to be true in order for the statement to make sense.

The assumed logic in the statement is thus persuasively conveyed to the listener. This tactic is effective since no overt attempt is made to persuade the listener, giving the impression to the listener that they came to the said conclusion on their own.

Where Infiniti Got it Right:

In line with the unconventional marketing practice of Infiniti, are three instances of masterful presupposition in the video:

1) “We know in the past, our customer service hasn’t been fantastic”, aside from the admission of fault, discussed previously, the phrase presupposes that “hasn’t been fantastic” was only so in the past, suggesting that their current customer service is indeed – fantastic.

2) “Unlike the other telcos, we’re going to skip India and the Philippines, and outsource our customer support straight to Artificial Intelligence. …. So no longer will you have to wait on hold for over 40 minutes only to have to try and discuss your problem in broken English with an outsourced call centre”. This line makes a number of elegant presuppositions.

First, that ALL “the other” telcos outsource to the Philippines/India already. Second, that until now, with these other telcos, the customer has had to wait on hold for over 40 minutes to speak with someone. Third, that Infiniti telco hasn’t been outsourcing at all and is the solution to the customer’s frustration with the other telcos.

3) “Oh, the Australian consumer is very resilient. You can see that by how they’ve continued to put up with the poor customer service from the big 3 telcos in this country. The level of support and communication from these overseas call centres has been appalling, so we know, in time, customers will learn to accept this as well.” Through presupposition, the line reinforces the idea that the Big Telcos don’t really care about their customers. They only want what is best for business, and expect the customer to put up with it. Although the humorous tone of the line hides it, it subtly places the idea in the listener’s mind.

3. The Association Principle, Contrast Principle and Positioning:

When we associate positive qualities with a company, we tend to view it favourably, even where the associated quality should have no bearing on our evaluation (Hall, [1]).

Similarly, associating a company with negative attributes is likely to create a negative perception. The contrast principle further adds to the effect. When options are contrasted against one another, we REALLY notice the difference and often exaggerate it in our minds (Bevelin, [2]).

Positioning refers to the use of language, constructed specifically to support or create a reality in the listener’s mind (Ghosh, [3]). This is the act of putting an idea into the listener’s mind, after which the listener is more likely to accept than reject the suggested reality. On the other hand, the same concept can be presented without positioning.

By combining association, contrast and positioning, you can make your company look really good whilst making your competitors look very bad in the eyes of the customer.

Where Infiniti Got it Right:

Few companies have consciously made a conscious attempt to take advantage of a short April Fools video in subtly trashing their competitors. Notice how Infiniti associates negative qualities with their competitors:

1) At 1:10, “the biggest frustration when dealing with a typical Australian Telco was the wait times when trying to speak to someone in customer support”

2) At 1:36, “how they (customers) have continued to put up with the poor customer service of the three biggest telcos in this country”.

3) At 1:43, “the level of support and communication… has been appalling”

4) At 2:17, “what the Big Telcos are doing right now, with scripted responses that their overseas staff use”.

Now contrast that against the qualities Infiniti associates with itself:

1) At 0:02, “We’re always looking for ways to innovate with the newest technology to make our customer service revolutionary”

2) At 2:25, “We deliver that experience in a timely and innovative way”

3) At 2:45, “We may be revolutionary but we’re not crazy”. By continuing to refer to the “Big 3 Telcos” and what “they do” (off-shoring, making customers wait, pre-scripted responses), Infiniti paints the big telcos in a bad light whilst giving the impression that Infiniti is in fact the solution to their customer’s frustrations using the positioning technique.

Note that speakers in the video never use non-affirmative language such as, “we believe that customers of the three big Telcos are frustrated” or “we hope that our new solution is the answer to the customer’s problems”. Instead, as can be noticed in the instances above, the language used is direct and expressed as if what is suggested is a matter of fact.

4. Authority Bias

Psychologist Robert Cialdini finds the authority bias to be one of the most persuasive of psychological forces in human nature (Cialdini, [4]). The use of titles is often used to justify suitability. However, the authority bias goes a step further. Psychologists find that even when when titles are not applicable to the task at hand, they are perceived as convincing.

Robert Cialdini, in his groundbreaking work: Influence, describes an example of the persuasive use of titles even where they should be irrelevant. Actor Robert Young, well-known for playing a fictional doctor “Marcus Welby, M.D.” on TV, was the center of a popular coffee commercial. Cialdini notes: “If … people had focused on Mr. Young’s actual status as an authority, I am confident that the commercial would not have had so long and productive a run. Obviously, Robert Young does not possess a physician’s training or knowledge. We all know that. What he does possess, however, is a physician’s title, “M.D.”

Now, clearly, it is an empty title, connected to him in our minds through the device of playacting.”. We see doctors, lawyers and consultants proudly displaying their qualifications in their offices for us to see. But how often do we read these qualifications? Nevertheless, they are found to be persuasive, which is why we see them in the offices of such professionals almost without exception.

Where Infiniti Got it Right:

In the video, each individual in introduced to the viewer with a text stating the name and title of the individual. Specifically, we note that Pete W. is Head of Operations, Henry R. is Head of Technology and Sarah B. is Head of Customer Experience. Even though a majority of viewers will not remember the exact titles, the very presence of titles is likely to create a positive perception.

5. Attractiveness (Halo-Effect)

Individuals seen as visually attractive are more likely to be persuasive than others. While many of us would like to live in a world where such superficial characteristics are unimportant, the reality is that attractiveness is the most commonly employed marketing tool. This is a manifestation of what is known as the halo effect (Cialdini, [4]). We see three individuals at various points in the video.

Where Infiniti Got it Right:

While attractiveness is a subjective quality, it can be argued that a majority of people watching the video would consider at least one of the three individuals as visually attractive. Their attractiveness is further amplified by the quality and professional editing of the video. This is not particularly unconventional, with most other companies consciously including attractive persons in their marketing videos.

6. Novelty and Mystery 

Attention is a precious resource. Evolutionary psychologists describe homo-sapiens as cognitive misers (Buss, [11]). Humans would rather save energy than have to think! Our hunter-gatherer ancestors had a simple rule of thumb that came in very handy for “not-thinking” as much as possible.

Now, unfortunately we’re stuck with it.

The rule goes something like this (Klaff [6]): If it’s boring, ignore it. If it’s dangerous, fight or run. If it’s complicated, avoid or summarise. However, there are two exceptions to where we pay special attention, even where our lives are not at stake: novelty and mystery (Klaff, [6], Cialdini [7]). Something new and something unresolved demands our attention. There is no doubt, this first-of-its-kind self-deprecating approach to marketing is novel. Viewers of the video are unlikely to have ever seen something similar previously, even through channels like Facebook.

Where Infiniti Got it Right:

The video is novel in a number of respects in that we find practices not employed in other April Fool’s Day campaigns.

1) It shows the company being self-deprecating. 2) It employs subtle humour, particularly in considering the irony in replacing humans with a chatbot as being advanced. 3) It is one of the only notable instances of April Fool’s marketing being used in the

Telecommunication business. Clues about April-01 are placed within the video title and various points within the video. Thus, many viewers will likely have considered that the video might just be a humorous prank. However, given the realistic acting in the video, viewers can’t be sure. This creates an element of mystery. Also note how the mystery is resolved only at the very end, keeping viewers watching all the way through.

7. Frame-Switching 

Professional videographers and directors understand that persuasion isn’t just limited to what the audience hears, but also on what the audience sees. This is where frame-switching serves as a handy tool.

Switching between different segment of the video when carried out correctly, can bring the attention of the viewer on what the videographer wants them to pay attention to (Cialdini [7]). Specifically, viewers pay attention to the portion of the visual space where the most prominent change has taken place.

Where Infiniti Got it Right:

In considering how the video is put together, we find a few instances of visual attention being directed. Notice that the brand logo is placed clearly on the bottom-right corner. To ensure that the viewer’s visual attention finds its way to the brand logo, the position of the speakers is alternated between far-left and far-right. The subtext on the video is similarly appropriately placed and introduced in a timely manner. It is at the same height as the brand logo. It is impossible not to notice the logo at various points during the video as the speakers appear in the video and as their titles are seen flying into the frame. In particular note the transition between frames from 0:50 to 0:56.

8. Other tactics used in the call-to-action 

The April Fool’s day video is only the first part of the campaign. Infiniti has further used psychology in persuading their traffic to their call-to-action. When company first released the video to it’s nationwide customer base, they drove traffic to a custom page on their site where the video was at the centre of attention.

However, outside of the video, but on the same page we find a number of other persuasive elements (shown in the picture below).

Source: infinititelecommunications.com.au

The are 3 elements that we notice:

1) The social proof principle is the phenomenon best described as “following the herd” (Cialdini [4]). Humans tend to go with whatever is popular. Case studies and testimonials are used in providing social proof, which creates the perception that the offering is popular.

2) Notice how the money back guarantee creates trust. The exaggerated fear of losing what we have is referred to as loss-aversion (Kahneman, [10]). The money back guarantee puts potential customers at ease and prevents such loss-aversion from getting in the way of making a sale.

3) The entire campaign is aimed at engagement, which in itself is based around the foot-in-the-door technique (Cialdini [4]). When a viewer has spent two and a half minutes of their time watching a campaign video, they are more likely than before to provide further investment of time. This is precisely why, engagement should be the focus of such marketing, particularly on a platform such as Facebook.

Lastly, Infiniti shows us once again that it understands persuasion in the simplicity of its slogan (Luntz, [8], Heath, [9]) “Making Communication Easy!”. In a short and sweet slogan that resembles “Keep it simple stupid!” in its phrasing, Infiniti have ensured that the slogan sticks in the memories of its visitors.

As April Fool’s day comes around again in a little over 11 months, we hope we see more companies using the opportunity to be more than just humorous.

Getting eyeballs on your content, during a period that is flooded with videos is only becoming harder with each April 1st, so next year, companies, marketing managers and content marketers, for the love of David Ogilvy, please take the opportunity to be more strategic and persuasive.

REFERENCES

[1] Hall, G., 1994. Pavlovian conditioning: Laws of association. [2] Bevelin, P., 2007. Seeking wisdom: from Darwin to Munger. PCA Publications LLC. [3] Ghose, S. and Lowengart, O., 2001. Perceptual positioning of international, national and private brands in a growing international market: An empirical study. The Journal of Brand Management, 9(1), pp.45-62. [4] Cialdini, R.B., 1987. Influence (Vol. 3). A. Michel. [5] Goldstein, N.J., Martin, S.J. and Cialdini, R., 2008. Yes!: 50 scientifically proven ways to be persuasive. Simon and Schuster. [6]Klaff, O., 2011. Pitch anything: an innovative method for presenting, persuading, and winning the deal. McGraw Hill Professional. [7] Cialdini, R., 2016. Pre-Suasion: A Revolutionary Way to Influence and Persuade. Simon and Schuster. [8] Luntz, F., 2007. Words that work: It’s not what you say, it’s what people hear. Hachette Books. [9] Heath, C. and Heath, D., 2007. Made to stick: Why some ideas survive and others die. Random House. [10] Kahneman, D., Knetsch, J.L. and Thaler, R.H., 1991. Anomalies: The endowment effect, loss aversion, and status quo bias. The journal of economic perspectives, 5(1), pp.193-206. [11] Buss, D., 2015. Evolutionary psychology: The new science of the mind. Psychology Press.

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[ariel-herman]

Prayerful exodus from former Oceti Sakowin. Standing Rock, North Dakota.

A group of BIA cops surrounded three men who’d been caught smoking weed on camera. I took a seat in one of the leather chairs of the lobby and watched to police detain the three men to look for priors. The youngest of the three was physically nervous, the second seemed like he just wanted to get out of the situation. The third and largest man was a firekeeper from camp. He refused to step to one side while they detained them to look for warrants. An officer pulled his taser and threatened him.

With his arms up, he refused to leave his friend’s side. A captain came over and pulled his arm behind his back. He resisted the captain. Once he pushed his arm back up, he was potentially guilty of resisting arrest for disorderly. It was amazing how well they’d set up the precedent to make a non-violent man appear unreasonable. With a snap, the taser prongs landed in his chest. His ribs were broken there from a fall in camp. He screamed and fell over a chair, then onto the colorful carpet.

Structure fire, Oceti Sakowin.

I woke up on February 22nd and headed to camp. Camp leadership and media waiting on 1806 in a light sleet for the general from the Army Corps of Engineers and his entourage. They approached followed by an excavator. The players negotiated how those in the camp in passive resistance would be treated. It was agreed there would be people in prayer. The general listened, nodding with acknowledgement. The governor’s spokesman asked if heavy equipment could come in today during the day with police escorts to begin cleanup. Leadership declined, asking for our camp to be given time for closure. Media would be provided with a designated media zone up on 1806, but would have to leave after 2pm to make room for the army to move in.

After 2pm, anyone left in camp would be guilty (minimally) of federal trespassing charges. One legal source posited that this was good – federal court would have less intrinsic bias than North Dakota.

That night I’d stayed up worrying. A rumor had circulated that there was a weapons cache in camp. According to a former military specialist in camp, this was a classic FBI/AFT move – to plant weapons by way of an infiltrator, thereby demonstrating that the true nature of non-violent movements is in fact militancy. It might sound like a cooked up conspiracy theory, but there is a strong precedent already in existence. We had no way of knowing if the rumor was true per se.

Rumors and wishful thinking are the two most abundant resources. As an idea, it was deadly. The entire movement could have been dragged to its knees with the loss of any life, especially if our side appeared to fire first.

The team deployed to Standing Rock. Our media group searched for salient optics in camp. I slogged across the muddy fields of former Oceti Sakowin. The thaw had softened the ground and bled the snow into a thick, tire-torn sludge. Chunky snowflakes were falling. I remember when this land was prairie grasses padded down from the heavy foot traffic of protectors in service to the Sioux and water. Those hard grounds were as to this mud as the cold nights of November cold were to the deathly cold sunny days of January. I walked out to see the Hogan burning in a soft circle of orange flames. I didn’t talk to anyone there. Time was slowly ending in camp. Structures were lit up by folks of spiritual inclinations and rascal convictions; the wood burned just the same. Ash and snow became indistinguishable as they fell from the sky.

  Ritual burning of shelters in Oceti Sakowin.

By noon I began to grow tense. We had a significant resource atop media hill – a large school bus – and I wanted to save it. Part of us felt a strong ‘fuck it’ attitude. Let’s ride this out and let the bus sail into history with Oceti Sakowin. It was up to everyone to decide what their part needed to be. As the hours passed, no one had a clear answer if they wished to stay and face arrest or leave.

People congregated in the 7th Generation kitchen for coffee, snacks, and to thaw out by the barrel stove. Veterans, water protectors, renegades, rascals, rapscallions, patriots and political prisoners; all hung onto the last few hours in a place that had cultivated us with truth and beauty for many months. The prior day, a great thundercloud came out of the west drawing flashes and purpled fingers and roaring over the camp and police reminiscent of tephra.

At 1pm, a call was put out around camp for a ceremony. A sacred fire was burning by old flag road. Water protectors gathered around the speaker. A man spoke… We will not give them the satisfaction of taking us by force. We will, instead, offer a prayer and a round dance before walking to the evacuation busses by Echo 2 (the southern gate of Oceti Sakowin). Anyone who wished could, of course, stay and make a stand for treaty rights. An elder spoke, thanking us all for having come in service in fighting the black snake (DAPL). I stood with a boot in both worlds then, one as a white journalist, the other as someone whose heart had fallen for the movement. Men and women cried around the fire in a collective release.

The protectors marched up flag road to Echo 1 (north gate). I rushed alongside in the mud and snow, trying to take a photo that wasn’t filled with journalists trying to take the same shot. Behind them, a structure was going up in an immolate blaze casting a stream of black smoke to the sky. They marched through the gates and onto 1806. A Gadsden flag hung on the gate, harkening to the American Revolution with the classic defensive rattlesnake and the motto “Don’t Tread On Me” whipping on a northern wind. A makeshift spike strip (2×4 and nails) was laid out after them, razor wire drawn across the entrance, and the main gate into former Oceti Sakowin.

A friend found me at Echo 1. He’d been at court that morning for his arrest on Last Child Hill.

You made it back!

Yeah, I made it. I had to help out. There’s too many people here I need to help – to keep safe.

His eyes were moist and his voice waivered slightly. He was the kind of man who wants to keep everyone safe while at the same time abandoning their own well-being. His demeanor was like that of many die-hard water protectors.

I embraced him and pleaded, don’t forget to include yourself in the list of people that need saving. This place is a runaway train. Please, take care of yourself, too. These people have made their choice – that doesn’t make it your responsibility.

Yeah, but I do feel that way… I can’t not be here.

We parted ways. The security volunteers by Echo 1 prepared the checkpoint for ritual annihilation by filling it with hay bales and timber before generously dousing it with gasoline. Behind the building was 1806 covered with media and cops. Those on the ground took a few steps back as the security volunteer struggled to light the torch. With a soft underarm, the torch went through the door. FOOM! The instant force of the explosion ripping the walls from the 4x4s at each corner.

  Debris in Oceti Sakowin.

Black smoke rose toward the reservation in the south. We could see a Toyota pickup burning from atop media hill. Random booms came from a nearby structure fire as compressed gas bottles (LP or propellant canisters) ruptured deep in the flames. My friend Erick stationed himself with a few friends in a yurt next to the medical tent on the hill. He’d stay and attend the sacred fire. I did not have the same resolve to stay in my heart, or if I did, I was too scared to embrace it. To the south, people marched across the frozen Cannonball River dragging their possessions in sleds like refugees escaping a war zone.

At 2pm, media members scrambled to get one of our vehicles off the hill. The white van was sliding down the slick eastern face of the hill. We threw straw and cedar compost shavings behind the tires and tried to pull backwards. The van peeled out from its slick position, rolled back up the knoll and turned around down the northern slope toward Echo 1. I’d forgotten to tell him it was shut. A minute later the van blasted across the mudded fields like a great white torpedo and made exodus through Echo 2.

We stayed until 3pm. The risk of arrest increased each hour. Without confidence in this showdown being 100% peaceful, I left. It took us until 4pm to jump the bus. In the last hour, I pinched out a palm full of tobacco and prayed and said goodbye. As the bus warmed up we angled our descent from the hill.

The bus had no breaks whatsoever. Once we began, it would have to be perfect or the top heavy 19,000lb bus would slide down into camp like a sinister, albeit hilarious, textbook demonstration in friction coefficients, mass and gravity. Two other protectors keen on escape joined us, and we began the descent. As we began the police lined up outside Echo 1.

The bus pulled to the right and rolled into the first depression, then up another slight hill before dropping down the snowy southern slope. The bus rocked side to side as we slid down ice and mud toward piles of logs and random debris at the bottom. With no shortage of relief we arrived at a rare grassy patch in the south of camp completely surrounded by mud of unknown depth. After was Echo 2 cleared of traffic, the bus pulled forward like a great steel mud puppy. A lamp hanging on a hook swung around and smacked into the driver side bulkhead knocking the D-batters down into the stairwell. The driver cranked the wheel to the right then accelerated up the graveled exit toward 1806 with a guttural roar.

  Water protectors writing the legal support number on their arm, Oceti Sakowin.

After several BIA checkpoints we made it to the casino. The high emotions and levity faded throughout the evening. We waited around for the team to come back. By time dinner time, I hadn’t eaten a meal in 12 hours.

Our chief of media, John Bigalow, took the team out to the haute Hunters Club at the casino. It was a kind gesture, meant with a spirit of gratitude and celebration, but it felt wrong somehow. I’d gone from slogging across camp in sleet ash to sipping California Syrah and listening to oldies music beneath turtle shell glass chandeliers. Our friends were still down there. The police hadn’t moved on them yet. Camp was still standing, and here we were with two sizes of forks and waiters who attentively refilled my water glass every five minutes. I couldn’t handle it.

Two members hadn’t made it back, so two of our team left the dinner table before the food arrived to go find them. I tried to comment on the confusion of contrast between muddy camp and posh dining, but it wasn’t a happy table topic. I felt grief and shame welling up in me. My colleagues tried to gently coax me back to appreciating the moment. They didn’t understand. I excused myself from the table and went to the gaming floor.

I smoked a cigarette by a slot machine that paid out at exactly 96.40% and smoked a cigarette that was 100% killing me. My friend from camp walked by. He read me quick and sat down. I started to sob as quietly as I could and told him I regretted leaving camp and being here. Camp was like a mother to us. I’d prayed with comrades and dropped my tobacco in ceremony. I was heartbroken for a place which I had never wanted to lose, and yet had allowed myself to leave. At the time, it felt pragmatic. I was happy it had ended – I had wanted it to end – I did not know it how much it would hurt to let her go.

Now that I was in this casino, I couldn’t use my journalism to protect people there or inform the general public. I’d let myself down, and them – and we were of the Oceti Sakowin. Fillet minion tastes like shit when you’ve lost the battle.

He listened quietly. After I’d shaken some of it out, he made me eat my own words…

What’d that you said back in camp? Don’t forget to take care of yourself, too? I’m here right now because of what you said to me, and because other folk also told me the same exact thing…

Erick praying at gunpoint. Photo credit: Christopher Francisco, Oceti Sakowin Camp Media.

Oceti Sakowin was raided the next day by heavily armed law enforcement officers. They radiated south from Echo 1, systematically sweeping structures and arresting everyone. Erick sat with eyes closed by the sacred fire waiving turkey feathers over a bundle of sage and cedar. His prayers were not intended as a political statement, but they made an impact online when photographer Christopher Francisco videoed him being confronted by police brandishing M4 assault rifles. His image went viral. What had been a deeply personal act for Erick had become the epitome of Standing Rock down to her last protector. He reminded me why I had come to Standing Rock, how beautiful life can be when we shamelessly pursue what matters most, and to tend our fires ceaselessly.

After Francisco was arrested and his camera feed cut, the sacred items were ripped from Erick’s hands and his face was pushed into the mud. A knee was put to the back of his neck, and after 5 hours wearing zip-tie cuffs, he permanently lost sensation on the top of his thumb.

The line of armored police pushed across camp up to the northern banks of the Cannonball River. A Customs and Border Patrol helicopter low-buzzed the riverbanks sweeping wide around camp. On the frozen river were a hundred or so water protectors.

Everyone needs to affirm their sovereignty. Part of the problem, to me, was how many seemed to base that affirmation on the presence of a dominator rather than an abundance of intrinsic conviction. That aspect doesn’t account for the numerous reasons for people being on the river that day, brandishing medicine wheels and political banners. Yet I wondered if it were true in a collective sense. If so, it is a huge distraction to getting a significant dialogue going between all sides regarding the collective existential threat of ecological ruin awaiting future generations.

I walked along the southern shore from Sacred Stone to Rosebud by 1806. Abandoned camping supplies littered the upper banks. There were shelves with stacks of food and between unoccupied army tents and tipis. A campfire of large rounds steadily burned in the middle of an empty camp. To the north, an excavator was destroying buildings from what had become a runaway construction effort. Atop a single building, a water protector wove a flag at police. It was quiet. Oceti Sakowin had been like our mother. We were exiled in dreams of the afterbirth, imagining where the next frontline would be. Could we afford not to oppose the Trump Administration’s insulting disregard of the Constitution and the earth? No, this was too soon, we still needed to grieve over a warm corpse.

Fifteen BIA officers entered at 1806 and began to march toward me. It was time to go.

Customs and Border Patrol helicopter over the Cannonball River. To the left is Rosebud, to the right is former Oceti Sakowin.

Cables make getting across thinning ice less precarious. Above, law enforcement officers take the upper bank and last section of Oceti Sakwoin Camp.

We’ve all had to say goodbye to someone we loved. There is a kind of goodbye that hurts more than any other. It comes when we let go of someone who, upon later reflection, we wish we’d fought harder to keep. From my hotel suite down the road from Standing Rock, it’s hard to arrest my speculation – did I do everything in my power to save her? Was it ever possible to keep a place like that?

The answer to both is no. For many reasons, it is good that it ended.

From death to deadlines, the rules of heaven are, according to Aristotle, unchanging and unwritten. He also reminds us that, an education of the mind without an education of the heart is no education at all. In this respect, it has been an immense education.

How We Say Goodbye to Oceti Sakowin A group of BIA cops surrounded three men who’d been caught smoking weed on camera. I took a seat in one of the leather chairs of the lobby and watched to police detain the three men to look for priors.